The Claim
by Nagiana
Summary: Natalie Simmons was well on her way to having the life of her dreams. With an amazing boyfriend in John Blake and a semi-good job, the only worries on her mind was her incarcerated brother and whether or not she could pay for her Gam Gam's nursing home bills. That all changes when Bane takes her hostage and suddenly, she find herself falling down the proverbial rabbit hole . . .
1. Chapter 1

**I know, I know - I've got crap-loads of other stories to finish, but this one has been on my mind for ages now and it's. Not. Going. Away! So I guess I'll put it on here and see what kind of reception it gets. Hopefully, you guys will like it :)**

**This is a Bane x OC Female x Blake fanfic, so if you don't like that love triangle, then don't read. This will also be a slow burn romance - there will be overly dark Bane, nor a I-Fell-In-Love-With-Her-Upon-First-Glance, Bane. Again, don't like that, then don't read either.**

**Reviews are my crack, so please, everyone feel free to fund my addiction. Flames, however, will not be tolerated and will be picked apart and sacrificed to the Writing Gods at the beginning at every chapter. Reviews with constructive criticism, however, will be more than welcome and will be greeted with milk and cookies :)**

**This is my first Dark Knight fanfic and if I've gotten anything wrong, then please, let me know! I will be happy to go back in and change it.**

**So, without further ado, please read, review and enjoy!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

"_John_! Hurry _up_ – the game is almost on!"

"One minute, Nat! I'm coming as fast as I can!"

Natalie Simmons grinned and sat up, giant bowl of popcorn being cradled in her lap, as her boyfriend all but ran into the living room, a grin on his face. He jumped over the back of the couch and Natalie squeaked and hugged the bowl to her stomach as the force of him hitting the couch, launched her a few good inches into the air. She landed and gave him a look, one that he continued to grin at.

He handed her a beer. "See, I'm here. Just in time, too." He told her and she narrowed her eyes slightly before taking the brown bottle from him. They both of them popped the tops off as he opened his legs and pulled her back against him as he himself sunk back against the arm of the leather couch. She went willingly, placing a few pieces of popcorn in her mouth with her free hand as her back comfortably met his front. His beer appeared on her thigh while the other grabbed some of the popcorn being cradled on her lap, as well.

Things had been exciting in the small household all day. After all, it was only _the _big day – the day when all of Gotham City saw whether or not their football team, the Gotham City Rogues, would go to the Super Bowl, or would be doomed to languish another year without football fame. It was huge, because for once, Gotham seemed to have a great team and an even better coach than the more disappointing previous season. And for Natalie Simmons and her boyfriend, Officer John Blake of the GCPD, it was certainly something to be excited for, considering the both of them were huge football fans.

"Remember: whoever's team wins, gets oral tonight." He grinned with a twinkle in his eye as he took a swig of his beer. Natalie shot him another look mid-chew. Finally, and with a look of amusement appearing in his eyes, she covered her mouth with her hand and quickly finished chewing. She swallowed and then spoke.

"Are you _serious_ -?"

He shot her a challenging look and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Completely. Better hope your team wins."

"But that's not fair, Blake! We're both rooting for the Rogues like usual!" She spoke up, and Blake's grin turned down into a smile as he leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Well then, let's hope _our_ team wins." He replied, his voice low and husky, and Natalie couldn't help but allow a grin of her own to spread across her face as she snuggled deeper against her man, popcorn in one hand, and beer bottle in the other. They watched silently through pre-game commercials and announcements. They impatiently sat through the commentators discussing the players from the two teams to watch this particular game and Natalie couldn't help but giggle when Blake impatiently shouted for them to hurry up before rolling his eyes.

"Being a cop hasn't taught you any patience yet?" She asked, grinning around the rim of her beer bottle, and he shook his head.

"Not when it comes to football, babe. _Never _when it comes to football."

She grinned and took another swig as the game finally came on. Blake gave an ecstatic whoop that Natalie quickly shushed, much to his amusement, for she had been sure that it had been loud enough to make the neighbors complain. After shooting him a playfully reprimanding look, the both of them devoted their attentions solely to the game playing out on the plasma screen in front of them.

The game turned out to be a regular nail biter – one of the more stressful ones that Blake and Natalie had ever gone through together in their relationship. By half time, their cuddling had abruptly ended and they were both sitting on the edges of their seats, the bowl of half-eaten popcorn on the coffee table in front of them and their forgotten beers sitting on the wood floor at their feet. The half time show was barely acknowledged, with the both of them desperate for the game to come back on so they could settle the bet that Blake initiated but which Natalie had reluctantly followed along with.

The last half of the game was stressful not only for them, but also for their neighbors on their left side, who turned out to be fanatic followers of the opposing team. Whenever they cheered about their team scoring, Blake's voice would be tinged with irritation as he muttered something about how they weren't true Gothamites if they weren't even followers of the home team. However, Natalie giving an ecstatic whoop of her own with the Rogues scored the next touchdown, drowned him out.

She wasn't entirely sure, but was still pretty sure that by the end of the game, them and their neighbors were having a little bit of a rivalry going themselves. By the end of the game, both households were screaming at their respective TVs, cheering their teams on and jeering and name-calling the opposing team (many of which had Blake returned with a roared 'asshole' and 'dick'). In fact, the game had gotten Blake _so_ high-strung, that by the time the score was tied and only two minutes were left on the screen, he was standing on the couch and practically jumping up and down screaming for the Rogues to get their shit together so that their douchebag neighbors wouldn't be able to hold something over their heads when they passed each other in the hallways or stood beside each other in the elevator.

Their neighbors were shouting something similar, but a lot more cordially than Blake was.

Natalie would have found the whole things intensely amusing if she wasn't too busy worrying if he was going to fall and break something. Namely, something that wasn't him. She knew Blake – she knew how hard his head was. She wasn't worried about him in the slightest. It was her _furniture _and the _floor _she was worried about.

"John, would you please _sit _– Holy shit! Go, Rogues, GO!"

"Come on, come one, _come on_! Rogues, come on – _beat their fucking asses_!"

The buzzer loudly rang out when the Rogue's quarterback ran the touchdown and it seemed like half of their apartment building exploded into cheers, as well as half of Gotham (although she doubted it was true. She was probably just imagining things). Their neighbors let out loud groans of disappointment as Blake let out a joyful yell and hopped down from the couch. His fists shot towards the ceiling and Natalie could only help but grin and laugh and shake her head indulgently as she quickly moved his half-empty beer bottle out of the way before he could tip it over. On the surface, Blake looked like a very well put together young man – and he _was_! But you put football in front of him and a different animal entirely was likely to come marching out, roaring its team spirit for its home team in a very childlike way.

Breathing hard, he collapsed back onto the couch and Natalie gave a laugh as she picked up the remote and switched the channel. Gotham City News was the channel she flipped to, but neither really took notice. Blake still had way too much adrenaline coursing through his veins to worry about Vicki Vale talking about the preparations of Harvey Dent's funeral, and Natalie was too busy listening for an angry pounding on their door from the scorned neighbor's next doors that had been so unceremoniously dragged into competing with them.

"That was a good game!" She spoke before picking up her lukewarm beer and draining it. She grimaced at the taste, and Blake nodded as he sat there, his breathing steadily returning to normal.

"Yup. Damn good game. Remind me to apologize to the neighbors later." He grinned and she shook her head.

"I doubt it'll do any good. I remember a few choice phrases coming from your mouth that'll be really hard to apologize for." She returned and he shook his head and gave a bark of a laugh.

"I'll blame it on the heat of the moment." She gave a snort of laughter.

"Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that before." She muttered, and immediately, Blake pinned her with a look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She gave a shrug.

"Oh . . . nothing in particular." She replied and he shook his head, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

"Oh no, I know you, Nat! Now what did you mean by that?" He demanded, and she shook her head again, forcing herself to keep a grin from off her face.

"_Nothing_, John! Forget it!" She told him and he nodded slowly.

"Uh-_huh_. Okay, well . . ." He shook his head as he pursed his lips. "Damn . . . it looks like you won." He heaved a fake sigh then as he picked up his beer and drained it before setting the now empty bottle down on the coffee table in front of them. Natalie furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"But . . . we were both rooting for the Rogues, right? 'Cause _tell me _I did not imagine your overexcitement!" She spoke, and Blake gave her a look that immediately had her shivering in very much of a good way.

"It's a free country, so I just happened to change my mind at the last minute – I think I'm entitled to do that! _So_, I ended up losing," He gave a shrug. "_Guess _that means you're the one who gets the oral tonight . . ." Natalie rolled her eyes.

"Oh Christ, John, I can just _tell _how much you're dying inside because of it!" She joked and he nodded, a grimace appearing on his face. However, that didn't stop him from his fingers making swift work of the button and fly of her jeans as he fell to his knees in front of her. A grin spread across his features as he impatiently pulled the denim down her legs.

"Oh, you know I'm fuckin' _dyin'_ inside, Nat!"

* * *

Natalie had a brother. Her brother was named Billy and Billy was currently an inmate in Blackgate Prison. They hadn't grown up with bad parents, quite the contrary – they had really _good _parents. Paula and Theodore Simmons loved both their children dearly and doted on them as much as their lives would allow. Natalie was the youngest and the baby, so naturally, that put a lot of pressure on Billy to be a good influence for his little sister. Instead of _being _that good influence, Billy ended up falling in with the wrong crowd. Petty vandalism and the occasional shoplifting of cigarettes and beer bottles from the local five-and-dime, eventually turned into Grand Theft Auto and breaking into jewelry stores. By the time he was eventually packed off to Blackgate, Billy Simmons was a career convict with an already pretty long rap sheet.

When she hooked up with Blake, Billy had been furious. He accused her of sleeping with the enemy because of Blake working with the Gotham City P.D., as well as whole slew of other hurtful things that eventually culminated in him telling her to not even bother making the trip up to visit him anymore. Natalie, who had grown up with thick skin thanks to her brother's rough-and-tumble friends that you would _not _want to meet alone in a dark alley at night, allowed them roll off her like water. She knew Billy didn't mean his words – not truly. She knew Billy loved her and considering their mother and father had died years ago in a freak car accident, she was the only family he had left. He was stuck in that prison for a very long time, but she knew he was grateful to her for being one of his only links to the outside world. She would tell him news – what was happening in Gotham and the world at large, how their Gam Gam was doing, if she had finally broken up with the pig and got with a guy he could proudly shake hands with upon being released . . .

To Blake's credit, he never sunk down to Billy's level and started hurling insults on how her brother was nothing more but a convicted lowlife who wasn't worth a shit. In fact, she never saw a hint of anything similar in his eyes or on his face whenever she brought up the fact that she had gotten a phone call or a letter from him. Instead, he was supportive of her sending care packages to her brother and even inquired at the station at one point to see if he could weasel a few years off of Billy's already astronomically large prison sentence. It was useless even asking, of course, but just him trying, showed Natalie he really cared, and despite what Billy said, made her determined to stick with him. She had finally found a good guy in John Blake. She wasn't about to give him up and fuck things up.

It was to her brother's latest prison letter, that she was busy reading when Blake's voice diverted her attentions away from his messy scrawl. "Jeez, you're up early . . ."

Natalie turned at the waist to watch him enter the living room from their bedroom, a groggy look on his face, hair impossibly messy despite its shortness, and clad in nothing but a pair of his black briefs. Natalie grinned at the sight. Blake wasn't much of a mourning person, unlike her, but that didn't keep her from thinking about how he was just about the cutest damn thing she could look at in the morning.

She nodded as she returned her eyes onto the piece of notebook paper in her hands. "Yeah, I know, but I thought I'd go visit Gam Gam today before work." She told him and Blake nodded as she quickly added before she forgot: "Coffee's already made in the coffeepot, by the way."

Blake grinned despite his grogginess as he continued to zombie-shuffle into the kitchen. "You're a bloody _angel_, Nat!" He muttered and Natalie gave a sound of playfully caustic agreement. He picked up a chipped coffee mug from the dish strainer by the sink and after rinsing it out, moved to the coffee pot. He then proceeded to fill the mug with steaming black liquid which he drank with enough sugar to make Natalie's stomach hurt. She wasn't that big of a coffee drinker to begin with (although she did drink it occasionally), but she was pretty sure one did not normally drink it with enough sugar to give even a professional athlete diabetes!

"What's that you're reading?" He asked as he took a sip of his coffee and moved to join her. Taking a seat on the barstool beside her, he wrapped his free hand around her waist and pulled her to him. She went willingly enough, and hardly noticed when his fingers began absentmindedly playing with the elastic band of her black boyshorts.

"Billy's latest letter." She told him and he nodded and took another sip before swallowing and pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. Clad only in a pair of black boyshorts and matching strappy tank top, she figured she should start getting dressed in time to see Gam Gam before she had to go to work. However, with Blake sitting beside her, his lean, muscular body warm and protective beside hers, she found herself wanting to linger. And after last night, all she wanted to do was for them to play hooky so they could stay in bed all day.

However, she knew there was a fat chance in Hell of that happening. Blake was trying to make Detective and Natalie didn't relish having her boss scold her over how she should take better care of herself because her petty job as a clerk at the bank right next to the New York Stock Exchange was just _so important_!

"Anything new?" He asked, simply to be polite. He knew nothing had happened since Billy's last letter except for maybe someone getting shanked during dinner one evening. His suspicions were confirmed when Natalie slowly shook her head.

"Nope. Someone did get shanked during dinner one evening, but that's about it . . ."

Blake let out a snort of laughter that thankfully his gulp of coffee, hid. He so called it.

"So, what else are you doing today, other than seeing Gam Gam and then going to work?" Natalie gave a shrug.

"I dunno. Kai mentioned something about possibly going to lunch together this afternoon, but, I don't know . . . I don't think I'll have time. My boss has been positively _hounding _my ass!" She spoke in irritation before setting down the letter, having finished reading it. Blake picked it up then and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration as he read it.

"Maybe you'll get a promotion soon; maybe that's why he's been hounding you. Hell, maybe we'll get one on the same day. That'd be cool!" He replied, and Natalie let out a snort of laughter.

"No, the fucker just likes _looking _at my ass!" She muttered before turning around and heading off in a huff down the hallway that led towards the bedroom and the shower and her closet beyond. Blake let out a laugh as he turned to watch her go.

"Hey, as long as he doesn't _touch _your ass, I'm fine! Your glorious hindquarters are _mine_!" He told her, and Natalie rolled her eyes and shook her head, however, a small smile spread across her face at his words, nevertheless.

"Oh, aren't you just my hero?" She called back, sarcasm heavily lacing her tone, and he gave a grin as he quickly drained his coffee. He heard the shower cut on and hurried to place the mug in the sink before marching off down the sunny hallway lined with pictures of the two of them.

"Hey, Batman can't be everywhere at once, you know! All the other times, we little guys have to try our best to hold the fort without him!" He spoke, and heard her laugh again from within the bathroom. The door was ajar ever-so-slightly and for a moment, as he headed to get his uniform out of his closet, he contemplated on whether or not he could use a shower, as well. He paused, thinking, as she spoke:

"_Well_ . . . at least Batman's ass looks good in spandex . . ."

Blake released a breathy laugh. "Oh, okay, I see how it is! You better watch yourself, 'cause I'm comin' in!" He laughed before ditching his uniform on the hopelessly rumpled bed. Stripping himself of his briefs as he went, he knew hopping in the shower would put him arriving at the station late – would put Gordon chewing him a new asshole, but hey! He couldn't _honestly _have his own girlfriend talking that way about him, now could he?


	2. Chapter 2

The nursing home Natalie had put Constance Simmons in upon the onset of her Alzheimer's, was one of the Gotham's nicest and most prestigious. Located outside the city limits like Arkham and Wayne Manor, Willow Forest was a welcoming white brick building with acres and acres of green lawns complete with a golf course, swimming complex and beautiful nature trails. The facilities were clean and well-monitored, with the doctors and nursing staff being some of the best in their fields. It was a tad on the expensive side that occasionally had Natalie struggling to make ends meet before she had moved in with Blake (even _with_ the insurance company footing a majority of the bill) however, she nevertheless wanted only the best for the kind, compassionate woman who had raised her and her brother upon the deaths of their parents.

"Hello, Nat, how are you today?"

Natalie smiled at the young woman working the front desk as she approached, slinging her bag across her shoulder as she did so. "I'm doing fine, Katie, you?" She asked, and Katie smiled and nodded as she handed her clipboard of sign-in sheets.

"Same here. And how's John?" She asked, and Natalie continued to smile at the mention of Blake. He didn't come with her often because of his work schedule, but when he did, he made sure to charm the pants and the socks off of everyone. It was something that she noted (with a hint of jealously) came quite naturally to him. Gam Gam adored him and every time he was around, she seemed to be a little better. It was at least proof to Natalie that a good attitude had the potential to have amazing healing properties. In fact, she wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Katie – the sweet young high school girl working the front desk as a part time job - didn't have something of a schoolyard crush on her boyfriend.

Something that no doubt Blake would be tickled pink to learn.

"He's doing fine, too. We both are." She quickly added before Katie nodded.

"Doctor Scarborough wants to see you before you leave. He has an update on your grandmother's condition, as well as something else to discuss with you." She told her, and Natalie nodded as she finished signing her name and the date before handing the clipboard back to her.

"That's fine. Should I meet him in his office when I get ready to leave, or . . .?" She trailed off and Katie shook her head.

"No, he'll just come find you. I assume you'll be with Constance?" Natalie nodded and Katie smiled. "That's what I figured. I'll let him know. She's out on the veranda now. On beautiful days like today, she likes being out in the sun." Natalie nodded.

"Thanks. I'll see you later, Katie." She told her and Katie echoed the sentiment as Natalie hitched her purse higher on her shoulder before moving off down the hallway. Heel clicking on the polished linoleum, she made her languorous way towards the glass double doors that led to the veranda that she was pretty sure her Gam Gam was sitting out on.

She had been right, and couldn't help but give a broad grin when she caught sight of the little old lady that sat in a wheelchair on the white stoned veranda. Sunlight fell on her and illuminated just how small she was in her dressing gown and how thin her wispy white hair was truly getting. When she opened the doors and stepped outside, Constance looked up and immediately mimicked Natalie's grin.

"Oh, Nat! It's so good to see you!" She spoke and Natalie couldn't help but feel giddy and relieved as she moved over to her Gam Gam, where she stooped down beside her. She was happy she was actually recognizing her for once, and took up her hand after pressing a loving kiss to her withered cheek.

"Gam Gam, you look so good since the last time I was here!" She spoke before quickly and rather glumly adding in her mind: _God only knows when that's been, to you._ Constance shook her head and waved a dismissive hand through the air.

"Oh, well, it was only a week ago, so I'm not sure how much I _have _changed. And I'm sure _they _would disagree with you," She spoke, gesturing with an irritated elbow back towards the way from which she had come. Natalie smiled again as Constance continued on: "They absolutely _insist _on me eating these . . . well, I don't know what they are, but they are absolutely disgusting and I refuse to eat them, but . . ." She sighed and trailed off, and Natalie couldn't help but allow her smile to grow upwards into something resembling a grin again.

"Please, Gam Gam, tell me you're eating your brussel sprouts!" She spoke and when Constance shot her a reprimanding look, Natalie broke off into a laugh that had Constance impatiently nodding her head.

"Yes, yes, I know – I shouldn't be talking after how badly I worked to get you and Billy to eat yours when you were kids, but, oh, I don't know . . ." She trailed off then as her hand appeared at the simple gold cross necklace hanging around her neck. "It's hard for me to eat them and the taste is _horrible_, but the nurses, they _insist_ . . .!"

Natalie nodded, her expression softening. "I'll talk to them, how about that? Maybe I can get them to switch you to something else . . ." She spoke, and Constance smiled and nodded happily as Nat reached into her purse and took out Billy's folded letter. Constance's brows furrowed gently when she brought it into view. "I got a letter from Billy this morning, by the way -"

"Billy? Where is he?" She asked, interest filling her eyes, and Natalie continued to stoop there for a moment, at a temporary loss for words. Of _course _it had seemed too good to be true! Of _course _her Gam Gam had to forget _something_ – it might-as-well be that her grandson was stuck behind bars at Blackgate again, this time for an insane number of years and all because the judge was tired of seeing him in there. "He hasn't come to see me in so long, I was afraid he had forgotten all about me . . ."

Natalie's face fell as her Gam Gam trailed off, at a sudden loss for words. She tried to brighten herself by telling herself that she could look at it as a Godsend that she had at least forgotten – even if it was for nothing more than a day – on how she would never see her grandson again in her lifetime. She knew how much that knowledge ate away at her whenever Natalie wasn't there.

Natalie took the time to get to her feet and pull one of the white whicker lawn chairs closer to Constance's wheelchair, to think of what to say. "He, uh . . . he's on a trip. He won't be back for a long time. He . . . needed to get out of Gotham." She told him and Constance nodded, her eyes suddenly growing a lot sadder than Natalie had ever meant to make them when she first made the decision to come visit her.

"You know, I keep telling people that Billy's not a bad boy. He just fell in with the wrong kids growing up, you know?" She spoke and Natalie nodded in agreement. Billy _wasn't _a bad guy. Quite the contrary, he was well known for making their parents and Gam Gam hit the roof with irritation at the sheer amount of stray animals he'd bring home, while all the while telling them that they could stay with them as long as they needed to, to get better. His heart _was _in the right place with a particular soft spot for animals, and before he was sentenced, he had come to visit Constance without fail every day. He always brought her flowers to brighten her room and flirted rather shamelessly with the nurses with their Gam Gam as his excited Wingwoman.

In fact, his constant visiting of her had been one of Natalie most frustrated topics. She could not _begin _to count the amount of times she had gotten into a fight with Billy over how he could bring himself on a good conscious, to go visit their Gam Gam every day, only to go home and do what he did. It blew her mind on how he could go brighten an old woman's day before going home and robbing a jewelry store with a bunch of his buddies while drunk and high. How could . . . how could he . . .

Natalie trailed off and stopped that stream of thought before she worked herself into a lather. Couldn't be helped anymore, could it? Billy was in Blackgate for his stupidity with a nice long prison sentence and now their Gam Gam was reaping the consequences. She hoped he was happy and then immediately felt guilty about the hope. Of course Billy wasn't happy about it. But then again, she had to grudgingly admit that it was probably more of him being unhappy that he had been caught, than him being unhappy about the two people he had left behind and who had supposedly mattered the most to him.

"Anyway, he says he's fine and that he . . . he's sorry he went away without telling you." She told her and Constance adopted a soft look on her face at her granddaughter's hesitant words. She sensed the underlying steel, though, and knew that there was something else Natalie wasn't telling her. But for a moment, she marveled at the strength of her granddaughter's words – in the shape of her pretty face and the way she held herself. It was a strength her brother shared and that had come from losing their parents much too early in their young lives, and it saddened her. She had done the best she could, raising her son's children, and she knew they were grateful for everything she had done, but that _steel _in their bones! That kind of steel was saddening! Having strength was one thing – an _important _one thing in this day and age – but oftentimes the ways one got that strength, was by combating the cruelties of what the world could throw at you. And _that _was what was sad.

So Constance took her granddaughter's words as what they were, and didn't gently prod her for additional information. Instead, she leaned forward and took a surprisingly strong hold of Natalie's hand. The surprise showed in her face as their eyes connected. "Enough of this! You didn't come here to be sad. Now, tell me, how's that boyfriend of yours, Nat? John, was his name, again?"

Natalie's expression softened, which made Constance's soften in turn. She had known from the moment they walked in together that first day, that her granddaughter was smitten senseless by the young police officer. And from the way he looked at her when she wasn't paying attention, the feeling was very much mutual. It warmed her heart knowing Natalie could move on and be happy.

"He's doing well. We both are. He . . . he's been trying to get a promotion into the detective rank, and once he does that, we're contemplating on maybe getting a bigger apartment," She gave a smile. "That way, maybe you could come visit us sometimes instead of being cooped up here all the time!" She spoke and Constance smiled damn near conspiratorially. Natalie couldn't help but grin at the look.

"As well as an apartment for other things, right?"

Natalie's grin fell down into a smile as she averted her eyes to her hands clasped in her lap. She knew her Gam Gam was referring to children and marriage and all that other important life-binding stuff, and the thought made her give an airy laugh. She nodded. "We've, uh . . . we've certainly talked about it; kids and marriage and everything. And we've decided that we're gonna wait until things are a little bit more stable in Gotham, before bringing a child into it." She told her and Constance nodded in understanding.

"I understand. It'd just be swell to meet my great-grandchild while I can still remember things." She told her, her tone a little on the bitter side, and Natalie's heart gave a twinge of pain as she nodded. She would have liked nothing more than the same thing, but . . . what with the catastrophe that had been Joker, as well as the crime rate still being what it was – although Batman _certainly _helped . . .!

And Blake had agreed – telling her that maybe they should allow themselves _and _Gotham time to become a little bit more stable before they cemented themselves and started putting down roots. But even then, she knew Blake was starting to get the itch to settle down, himself. Suggesting they maybe look for a bigger apartment if he got the promotion soon, she could only figure was the first stepping stone in that direction. Then there was him lingering on the fringes of jewelry stores whenever they would go to the mall, as well him avoiding the baby section of stores . . .

The thought warmed her and she perked up a little. "But . . . that _doesn't _mean he's not gonna propose soon . . ." She spoke and this news perked up even Constance. She gave a girlish squeal of delight that had Natalie laughing as she reached over and took up her granddaughter's hands again.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you, dearie! Now all we have to do is find Billy someone, and I can die in peace. You two deserve to be happy, you know?" She spoke and Natalie stubbornly shook her head.

"You're not going to die anytime soon, Gam Gam, so don't worry about it!" She told her before leaning down and pressing a loving kiss to her temple. "And I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer, but I have to leave if I want to be back in Gotham in time for work." She told her, and Constance's smile fell slightly. However, she gave a nod and a strong smile that made Natalie's heart go out to her.

"Oh that's fine, dear, I understand. I enjoyed catching up with you, though! Have a good day at work, won't you? And give John a kiss for me, as well as my best!" Natalie smiled and nodded as she gave her grandmother a hug before telling her goodbye with a promise that she'd be back sometime again by the end of the week.

She met Gam Gam's doctor midway down the hall to the lobby, and the aging, balding Dr. Scarborough smile and shook her hand. "Morning, Nat. How are you?" She nodded and told him she was well before quickly adding that Constance seemed to be in particularly good spirits that morning. Dr. Scarborough nodded as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pristine white lab coat.

"She is – we're quite pleased. The medication seems to working well and while she's still in the minor stages of the disease, I must warn you to expect to encounter some rough patches. These will, of course, increase as she progresses, but nevertheless, we remain fairly optimistic." Natalie smiled and nodded.

"You've told me this countless times before. Is this really what you needed to tell me?" She asked, and his face fell slightly. He heaved a sigh.

"Well . . . no, there is something else, as well. It's about your mother's insurance."

A stone of dread fell into Natalie's stomach at those words and she swallowed hard and nodded. This wasn't going to be good. "Okay . . .?"

He heaved another sigh and took a step closer to her. "Your mother's insurance company has filed for bankruptcy, I'm afraid, and has subsequently shut their doors. It was quite sudden and we only received the news this morning. Which means, of course, that they won't be able to pay the brunt of her bill anymore."

Natalie felt the sharp burn of tears in her eyes and suddenly felt very light-headed. Dr. Scarborough's brow furrowed gently in concern as he touched his fingers to her elbow. "Nat, are you okay?" He asked, and she swallowed hard and blinked back furious tears before nodding.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What . . . what are my options?" There was no _way _her and Blake could afford the entirety of Gam Gam's bill – even _if _he got this promotion and pay raise! And even then, she wouldn't want to burden him with it. Constance was her grandmother, not his, and they weren't even married yet, so why should he be forced to help pay her bill?

Dr. Scarborough heaved a sigh and gave a shrug. "We all love Constance – she is an absolute _joy_. But . . . we have policies, too, Nat. If you cannot find a way to pay the bill, then . . ." He gave another, sadder, shrug. "I'm afraid that we won't be able to keep her."

Natalie felt faint again. What would she do? Blake and her couldn't _possibly _afford to pay Willow Forest's expensive bill, even _if _he told her he would help! But without the home, Gam Gam would lose all the support and medication that was keeping her stable. She felt so much like crying, but refused to do so in front of this doctor who was simply doing his job.

She gave the strongest smile she could muster before nodding. "Can I . . . can I get back to you in a few days? I have . . . I have to discuss things with John." She told him and he gave an apologetic smile and a nod.

"Of course. You have 'til the end of the month to pay your next bill, so please, get back to us at any time!" He reached forward and planted a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I hope you get things sorted out, Nat, I really do. We'd all hate to see Constance go. She's been doing so well." Natalie nodded and quickly said her goodbyes before taking off towards the lobby and the double glass doors, taking leave of a Dr. Scarborough that had not the slightest inkling of what to say to make it all better.

Reaching into her purse, she quickly sought out her phone. Tears quickly filling her eyes, she was clear of the front doors and was seeking out Blake's number in her address book before they started streaming down her cheeks. The phone was ringing as she put it to her ear and he answered after a few rings. His voice, cheerful and so very _fucking_ Blake, made her release a sob that immediately made his tone change. Concern filled his voice as it lowered slightly.

"Natalie, what's wrong?"

She shook her head as she yanked open her car door and slid inside. "It's Gam Gam, John. Needless to say, I'm not going into work today."

"I'll meet you at home." She answered almost immediately and she shook her head.

"No, John, stay at the station. You've got that promotion you've been trying to get. I'll tell you when you come home tonight -"

"Nat, _no_!" He interrupted her, his voice a damn near growl and she felt a bloom of love for him in her heart. "I'm coming home and there's nothing you can say to change my mind. If Gordon has a problem with me going home to support my girlfriend when a problem comes up, then Gordon can shove it!"

She gave a watery smile. "I love you." She murmured, and Blake's voice was soft when he spoke next:

"I love you too, Nat. I'll see you at home."

* * *

"Are you sure they can't do anything?"

Natalie gave a miserable shake of her head as they sat on the same barstools in front of the island countertop, that they had occupied that morning. Blake sat beside her, facing her and one hand planted on the small of her back. Eyebrows furrowed in gentle concern, he watched as she took a swig from her beer bottle before replacing it.

"The company filed for bankruptcy and subsequently shut their doors, so there's no one to pay her bills but us. Unless we find a way to pay those bills, she . . ." She shook her head. "She might have to move in with us."

Blake nodded and rubbed a soothing path up and down her back. "Then that's what we'll do, Nat, if it comes to that."

"But we don't have room, John!" She spoke, her voice finally breaking with the sheer amount of emotion that had been whirling through her body. "We have this room, our bathroom and our bedroom. What am I going to do – make my sick grandmother sleep on the fucking _couch_?" She then broke down in sobs, her face burying in her crossed arms on the countertop. Blake heaved a sigh as he moved closer to her, one arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close to him. She went so reluctantly that it almost tore his heart in two.

"Look, Nat, we'll figure out what to do _together_. We'll either scrounge up the money every month to keep her in that place, or we'll bring her here and we'll . . . find _some way _to make her comfortable. You're not alone in this, Natalie, not anymore – you have me!"

Natalie gave a laugh as she brought her head up and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. "I don't know why you've stuck around upon hearing this. Most guys wouldn't . . ."

Blake adopted a look of shock on his face at her blatantly putting herself down. Eventually – and slowly – he shook his head. "Nat, I love you! I want to get married to you, I want to have kids with you! And if you honestly think this is the worst that's gonna ever hit us, then you're wrong! We'll figure out what to do and we'll get through this, just like we'll get through everything else this cruel world sends our way!"

Natalie gave him a small, thankful and watery smile at his words. He returned her smile with one of his own as she looped a hand around his neck and brought him closer to her. "We'll get through this, Nat, I promise." He murmured and she sniffed and nodded before their lips connected in a loving, passionate kiss.

His words and his kiss were sweet – exactly as Blake himself was. However, Natalie couldn't help but feel a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had a feeling that theory of them having to make it through much harder things, was about to come true.


	3. Chapter 3

"Marcia . . . hi." Natalie spoke in the most cheerful voice she could muster that next morning as she stood behind her counter at the First National Bank of Gotham. The look that the curvaceous, redheaded Marcia Scott hit her with, could probably have been described as nothing short of _the_ biggest bitch-face that Natalie had ever come into contact with.

"You still work here?" She asked with a sniff and an upturned nose, and Natalie smiled and gave a nod, as well a tight smile.

"Yes, I still work here. And for some reason, I get the feeling that I'm supposed to apologize to you for that?" Her eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion that had Marcia rolling her eyes and unzipping her expensive leather bag so that she could withdraw two checks from within the black space.

"I need to cash these."

"Fine. Cash or deposit?"

"The big one deposit, the small one, cash."

Natalie nodded as she spoke – all the while trying her damndest to ignore how much more money Marcia made than she did. Or was that her alimony check? Either way, it had a lot of zeros and Natalie was jealous, especially after the news she had just been dealt the previous day. "You know your account number?"

She nodded. "Yeah, right here . . ." She slid a post-it across the marble countertop scribbled with a bunch of numbers. Natalie nodded and quickly typed it in before sliding it back across to her. Silence pervaded the space between them, then – awkwardly and uncomfortably – and eventually, Marcia was the one who broke it.

"How's . . . how's Blake?"

Natalie nodded. "Good. He's gunning for a promotion into the detective rank. If he gets it, then we're hopefully getting a bigger apartment." They'd have to, now, in order to support Gam Gam moving in with them.

"And a ring?" Marcia asked with an upturned brow, and Natalie paused in her typing to shoot a glance her way.

"Possibly. We've certainly talked about it. But the way our finances are going this year, I doubt if it'll lead to that." She spoke, somewhat clipped, before returning to what she had been doing. Marcia sighed and looked away, although Natalie had caught the look of distaste on the statuesque woman's face.

"You know, when he told me he had a roommate, I didn't know it was you." She told her, and Natalie gave a little smile and a shrug.

"And you probably had no idea that he just using you because he couldn't get me at the time. Ooh, how much that must _boil_ you inside!"

_Natalie shot him a look of amusement over her bowl of cereal that morning. "She rated you a five, tough guy. You're losin' your touch!"_

_ He shook his head and shot her a grin as he readied his coffee. "Naw, Nat. She just wasn't the one I wanted."_

Marcia smiled a tight smile. "Well, I can certainly admit defeat. Don't know why he wanted you instead of me, but all's well that ends well, I suppose. I wish the both of you happiness." She spoke, sounding much more genuine than Natalie would have expected. She paused then and turned a furrowed brow up onto her.

"Really?" She asked, and Marcia nodded.

"Of course. Who is John Blake anyway in the grand scheme of things? There's a lot more men out there than one might think." She asked with a nonchalant shrug and a laugh. Natalie gave a slow nod.

"Other, of course, than the one who got away?"

Marcia's eyebrow rose in a very condescending look. She opened her mouth to speak, but a sudden and very loud screeching sound coming from outside, interrupted her. Both their eyes widening, they turned their gazes onto the glass front of the bank. Natalie felt her friend and fellow bank teller come to stand beside her, and she and Kai glanced at each other before returning their eyes onto the sudden smoke that was filling up the windows. They watched as the security guard, Officer Mack, inched towards the doors, his fellow officers on his heels and every one of them on high alert.

"I wonder what's happening." Kai murmured, and Marcia shook her head.

"Maybe . . . maybe there was a car accident?"

"With that much smoke?" Natalie spoke, and this time, Kai and Marcia both gave a shrug.

"Or a burst water main. It's been known to happen from time to time." Kai suggested next and both Natalie and Marcia shook their heads. Natalie knew it wasn't either of those things, but didn't say anything, and she knew Marcia was thinking the same thing. Her heart pounding madly in her chest, told her it wasn't anything nearly that innocent. And as people began running down the sidewalks and down Broadway, screaming, the three women stiffened and an air of palpable fear took hold of the bank as everyone froze in place. Whatever was going on, wasn't good.

A loud explosion split through the air at that moment, and the three women screamed and cringed away from the blast as choking gray smoke filled the air. Glass from the doors and windows, as well as marble from the walls and the ceiling, blew everywhere and rained down from the ceiling. The heavy sound of boots crunching on glass, filled the air next, alongside the coughing and sobbing from those who had been caught unawares by the blast. Men filled the space wearing army fatigues and carrying what looked like automatic rifles. Was it the military? No . . . no, these guys were too mean looking for the military, and besides . . . why would the military be needed on Broadway Street in Gotham?

"Everyone freeze!" One of the soldiers called out in an accented voice that neither one of the women could immediately place. It sounded Middle Eastern, though, as well as his swarthy looks, but they didn't pay attention for long. As people placed all around the bank immediately froze in horror, another man entered, silently but alert, and immediately commanded everyone's attention.

The man was massive – easily one of the biggest men Natalie had ever seen in her life. Built like a bull on two legs, his entire body seemed bigger than the equivalent on most men, as well as a being of pure muscle full of inert energy and raw power. His eyes were cold and alert as he stepped into the building, but the most frightening thing about him, wasn't the way he held himself, but the mechanical . . . _thing _that was strapped to his head like some twisted, roundabout head crab from Half Life (thanks Blake).

He scanned the area, his eyes skipping over his men and many of the people there, but they lingered when they fell onto her. She swallowed hard and her breathing deepened underneath his suddenly intense gaze. It was almost as if he was delving into her very soul with that gaze – seeing what made her tick – what exactly had happened to her that made her become the woman she was at that moment. A look of interest passed across his face before something else joined it – something intensely darker.

Kai obviously sensed his gaze on her friend, as well, and readily allowed her to take her hand and thread their fingers together. And suddenly, Natalie felt like she was a woman staring down a bull, terrified to break its gaze lest the beast suddenly decided to charge her. He terrified her and not necessarily in a phobic, 'I'll Run Away' kind of way. It was a deep seated primal terror – the kind of terror you only got when you witnessed someone killing another or when you were faced with the terrifying reality that you were . . . going to die.

She swallowed hard when it occurred to her that one of those things were going to happen now that he was here. One or both.

After a moment, he raised an arm and pointed at her. She felt her breath being pulled from her lungs in a great tug and for a moment, couldn't breathe. Tears filled her eyes as his booming, oddly mechanical voice split through the air: "Bring her to me."

It was then, when she _knew _she was staring Death in the face, black mask and all, as his men marched towards them, that she realized she hadn't told Blake she loved him when they left for work that morning.

* * *

"So . . . you got her a ring yet?"

Blake looked up from the file open on his desk, to James Gordon standing beside him, arms crossed in front of his chest and a small smile on his bearded face. Blake gave a smile as his fingers appeared at his lips. He shook his head.

"No . . . I've been trying to find the right one."

Gordon gave a laugh. "Why don't you enlist the help of her best friend if you're so conflicted?" He asked, and Blake sat there and thought for a moment. It _had _occurred to him to enlist the help of Kai, but then again, he couldn't be sure that she would be able to keep a secret. He knew Kai wouldn't do it out of spite, but he knew the woman would be so excited for her best friend that she just wouldn't be able to keep it back.

He gave a shrug. "Like Kai would be able to keep a secret." He spoke and Gordon gave a laugh.

"You know, when me and Barbara -"

Gordon was interrupted by the station suddenly erupting into movement. Blake jumped to his feet and Gordon's eyes widened in shock as an officer turned around to face them, a worried look on his face. "Blake, it's the First National Bank of Gotham – it's been attacked!" He spoke before hesitating. "And Natalie's been taken."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry about the short chapter last chapter, but I wasn't that sure where I wanted to take it. But, I have recently gotten the movie and after watching it, I'm a lot more stable in where I want to take this. So, without further ado, I give you the next chapter. Hopefully, this will help get me on the right road to where I wanna go . . .**

**Thanks everyone who has liked and favorited this story. Reviews would be muchly appreciated, though :)**

**Remember: Read, Review and Enjoy!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

"Hey, you can get _off _of me, right the _fuck_, now!"

Natalie's teeth grit as she struggled in the strong grip of the man behind her, as did Marcia beside her. Kai, however, went along willingly, too afraid to fight back. "I'd be still if I was you, girl." Came the dark voice behind her, and it took her a moment for her to realize that the deep, heavily accented voice came from the man half carrying, half restraining her. "Bane doesn't like women who don't know their place."

Natalie gave a snort. "Bane? Who the fuck's Bane? I don't know him from Adam!"

"Natalie, just shut up and do what he says, okay?" Kai hissed, her eyes wide with fright, and immediately Natalie toned down her struggling, a look of surprise on her face as she gazed at Kai. Her friend tearfully returned her gaze, and Natalie gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile, but Kai didn't return it. They were on an elevator now, going up. After that, they had ridden for miles in one of those military HUMVEES. Outrunning the cops – outrunning _Blake_, probably. Did he know? Did he know his girlfriend and her friend, as well as his ex-girlfriend, had been taken by these men? Was he scared – terrified, even? Or was he calmly confident that they would find them and rescue them?

Teeth gritting in anger, she yanked herself forward before turning to gaze up at the man holding her. Cool blue eyes, short, dark brown hair, aquiline features. She would have thought the man handsome, if he was not instrumental in the capturing of her and her friends, as well as blowing up and robbing the bank her and Kai worked at. She then balked slightly. When had she started considering Marcia her _friend_?

"Where . . . are you _taking us_?" She asked, forcing herself to keep her tone cool and collected, and saw the look of amusement that appeared in this man's eyes. He glanced at his two compatriots, who smiled in amusement, as well, before he spoke something to them in Arabic. They chuckled and nodded and replied in Arabic, as well. The eyebrows of the three women furrowed in slight confusion before the man holding her, turned his attention back onto her.

"You'll see soon enough, pretty one . . ." He spoke, his voice low and holding quite the dangerous tone that Natalie couldn't help but recoil away from. Those words caused her heart to pick up a pounding pace in her chest while she slowly allowed the man to revert her attention back onto the stainless steel doors of the elevator. His grip was firm but gentle on her and the two warring grips nearly boggled her mind. Compared to the tight grips the other men had on Marcia and Kai, this man's grip on her was almost . . . reverential.

A 'ding' resonated throughout the small space when they finally reached their floor and came to a stop. Natalie's eyes flickered upwards to the panel above the doors where the numbers of the floors glowed a soft yellow light, and was surprised to see that they were all the way at the top. Were they at a condo? Her suspicions were proven correct when the man closet to the floor panel, took out a key and placed it in the lock. Turning it, there was another ding and the door slid open with a silent fluidity. Marcia and Kai were led out first but the man held her back. His voice lowered.

"This is to be your new home, pretty one. Not theirs, but _yours_. And a word of advice before we go in, if I may? Curb that barbed tongue of yours or you might find it ripped out by the very man who ordered us to bring you here." The words were spoken on an eerily calm voice, but they sent Natalie into all sorts of whirling frenzies. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, least of all _why _she was there, _who _had ordered her to be taken and why the _hell _had he told her that this place was her new home? She _had _a home, already – it was with Blake – she didn't want this one!

What the _fuck _was going on?

The man moved her forward and she went willingly, although her legs shook like they were suddenly made of jelly. By the time they had halfway reached the others, she was leaning on the man more than she would have liked to admit. He stayed silent, though, and allowed her to lean on him slightly.

Kai and Marcia were standing there in the middle of what looked like a living room, their two captors still standing silent and hulking behind them. Kai had a steady stream of tears building in her eyes while the brevity of the situation seemed to finally be sinking into Marcia's head. Their eyes connected briefly and Natalie tried to share a tremulous smile with the two women but it wouldn't appear on her face. She was afraid she was all out of hope or logical reasoning at this point.

The man forced her to a stop with another firm, but gentle hold on her elbow. They stood there then, in silence that was broken only once by Marcia's captor asking something to hers in Arabic. The eyebrows of Natalie's captor, furrowed in irritation and he barked something to him in reply. The two men looked sufficiently cowed enough afterwards, to say nothing further.

They stood there for what seemed like hours but which was probably only twenty or thirty minutes of excruciatingly long minutes. They were excruciatingly long minutes that made the fear run hot and thick through their veins and by the time they heard the elevator come to a stop, even Natalie, who had been trying so hard to be strong for both her and her friends, had tears budding up in her eyes.

The doors slid open and heavy boot falls began falling almost immediately upon the wooden floors. When the man came into view, Natalie immediately felt a hot ball of lead drop down into her stomach. It was the same man from the bank – the one built like a bull on two legs and with the metal headcrab like mask attached to his face. He had a man trotting alongside him wearing the same brown army fatigues as the three men holding them. This man, though, was speaking quickly in Arabic to the larger man, but he was either ignoring him or just not deigning to speak with him. When he caught sight of her, he came to a sudden stop, the man having no choice but to come to a stop, as well. His brows furrowed in confusion, and he looked quickly back and forth between Bane and Natalie for a moment before asking a quick question. The man holding her snapped an answer at him and immediately, the two men began arguing, with many gesticulations made towards Natalie, Marcia and Kai. The entire time, her gaze was locked with the bulls in front of her, and for a moment, she felt terribly insecure in her own body – almost suffocated. It felt like he was taking her out of her own skin and observing what she looked like underneath through a high-powered microscope – what made her tick, what made her afraid – who and what she loved - what kind of woman she was. It was incredibly invasive and incredibly unsettling.

When he spoke, his mechanical sounding voice through the mask, was almost amused. "Barsad, my friend," He spoke and immediately, the arguing came to a stop and the man holding her, gave a nod.

"Yes, Bane?"

"Don't you think it a little rude to be using a language that not everyone here is privy to?"

The two men stood there and gaped for a minute, before the one who had accompanied him up the elevator, averted his eyes to the ground in a clear submissive gesture. "Forgive me, Bane. It was callous of me." He spoke, his accent as heavy as all the others, and the man named Barsad followed suit by nodding in agreement.

"Forgive me, as well. I should have known better."

"Yes, you should have. But no matter – it cannot be helped now." Bane spoke before taking a step closer to Natalie. Barsad immediately released her upon this step, and moved away from her to stand behind his leader. Natalie swallowed hard, suddenly missing Barsad's presence behind her. She forced herself to stand her ground, though, and she caught that tiny flicker of respect in Bane's eyes upon seeing her little show of defiance. "It is okay, little one. You have every right to be afraid of me. In fact . . . you _should _be afraid of me. _Very _afraid." He then turned around and gestured to the surrounding space before she could speak. "But tell me - what do you think of your new home, little one? I spent quite a considerable amount of time acquiring it for you."

Natalie's eyes quickly scanned the space around them – at the bright yellow painted walls with the wood siding and the beautiful framed paintings hanging on the walls. She gazed at the beautiful cherry wood floors and the tall windows that streamed in sunlight that bounced off the walls and cast everything in life and light and flame. The furniture was beautiful, all warm colors and dark woods and leathers. An empty brick fireplace sat against the far wall with a plasma TV mounted above it and surround sound speakers. Three doors branched off from the main room, to what she deduced was a kitchen, bedroom (which had double doors), and maybe a bathroom, study or second bedroom. Overall, it was a very gorgeous space and looked quite a bit like . . . her and Blake's apartment.

Natalie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A spike of fear shot through her heart. "Have you . . . have you been stalking me?"

Bane gave a laugh that Barsad mimicked, although to a lesser degree. "I don't call it 'stalking' when I have those I claimed, shadowed by one of my men for your own protection. But yes, to answer your question, I do know where you live. I know what the inside of your apartment looks like, for I needed to, you understand? I wanted to give you a place where you would be more comfortable – a place whose decorations are naturally predisposed to soothe you. So I chose this place. It resembles how you have decorated your own apartment, but is luxurious enough to suit _my _tastes for you. This is where you are meant to be, Natalie. You are meant to be treated like a queen – _my _queen."

Natalie's eyes widened and she held up her hands and took a step backwards, _away _from him. She could see the looks of blind and utter terror on Kai and Marcia's faces out of the corner of her eye, but refrained from giving them her attention. While his attentions were on her, they were fine.

And then another thought hit her. If Bane knew what her apartment looked like, then it was safe to assume he knew everything about her life. He knew quite obviously where she worked, or how else would he have known which bank to show up at? He knew about her relationship with Blake, he most probably knew about Billy and even Gam Gam. He probably knew Billy was an inmate at Blackgate and that Gam Gam could be located at a retirement home on the outskirts of Gotham. He had walked the halls of a life that she had thought personal – that only those she invited, could walk with her. Those strong, deadly hands of his had run over the pictures of her and Blake in their glass frames hanging on the walls and propped strategically throughout the apartment. They've been on the jersey sheets of their bed, on her clothes, her furniture – her _life_! And _when _had he actually been in her apartment, for that matter? Had he been careful to only enter it when they were gone, or had he . . . had he been bolder and moved through the hallways there when he knew they would both be asleep and unaware of the danger that was lurking in the shadows of their home? Had he bore witness to her and Blake's little shows of affection – their teasing and their laughter and their smiles and their lovemaking? Had he witnessed all of that, or none of it at all?

This man was _insane_, he had to be, and the thought made her almost light-headed with fright. Oh, _what _had she found herself into?

"Okay, uh, look, I don't know who you are, but _this _is crazy!" She spoke, as she quickly – almost in a panic – gestured to the space around them. Her heart pounded in her throat and tears filled her vision but she quickly blinked them back before they could make more of an appearance. Her head throbbed – she was developing a headache – and her voice tightened for a moment as she shook her head and as her eyes adopted a pleading look. She was scared out of her wits and all she wanted was to go home. She wanted to go home and pop in a movie and curl up on the couch. Then, when Blake got home, she wanted to pop in a movie and curl up on the couch with _him_! She didn't want to _be _there – she didn't . . .

She wanted _Blake_!

"Please . . . I'm _not _your queen!"

Another look of amusement speared through Bane's eyes and he chuckled as he moved forward and placed a strong hand on the small of her back. She felt the warm flesh of his hand through her shirt and shuddered as she allowed him to move her forward. She closed her eyes when he steered her to stand in front of Marcia and Kai. "Oh, but you are, my little one. For you will rule over the crumbling ruins of this city beside me, and this . . . this will be your palace," She bit down on her bottom lip as he continued: "And a queen also needs her court, does she not? So, you may choose one. _Only_. One. To remain beside you."

Natalie swallowed hard and opened her eyes. She found herself standing face-to-face with two very frightened women, one with eyes full of pleading tears while the other gazed at her wide eyed but with a strength that surprised her. It was to Kai's tearful, pleading eyes that she was drawn to, and it occurred to her that she would pick Kai. She would pick Kai every time because it was _Kai _she loved. She didn't love Marcia. Quite the contrary, she was pretty sure she _loathed _the woman just as much as she loathed her.

Bane gave a third chuckle and seemed to read her mind. "Do what you want with them, but keep this one – the timid one, alive. Kill the other when you're done with them. Barsad, show the little queen to her bedroom. I have an appointment to keep and she should not bear witness to what is about to happen."

The room sprang into motion then. Marcia and Kai began ardently struggling in the grasps of their captors as they grinned and closed in on them. Two more men entered the room then, hands empty of their guns but pistols strapped in holsters to their sides. These were grinning too and when it finally sunk down into the heads what of the three women just _what _was going to happen, Natalie shook her head and jumped forward.

"No – no, you can't do this!"

Barsad jumped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist and yanked her backwards before she could even attempt to intervene. She had no choice but to follow him as he struggled with her back towards the double doors behind them. "Kai – Kai, sweetie, I'm-I'm sorry – _Bane_! Bane, don't you _dare _allow this!" She screamed, but the bull man ignored her as he made his way back to the elevator, flanked by the man who had accompanied him in earlier. Her teeth gritted in anger and her eyes filled with furious tears as the four men grouped around the two frightened women and as Barsad finally managed to reach the double doors with her kicking and screaming and trying her damndest to get out of his grip. She was stronger than she looked, much to his surprise.

Wrapping one strong arm around her waist, he reached a fumbling grasp behind him and upon grasping the doorknob, pushed it open. Quickly throwing her inside, she landed, dazed, on the bed. He darted in himself and managed to close and lock the door right when she regained her balance and lunged at him from off the bed. Turning around, he caught the tearful, sobbing woman around the waist, right when her fists flew and started beating at his chest.

"Let me go – let me _go, _you _fucking bastard_ -!"

"Stop, St-Stop it – _fucking _stop it!" Barsad barked before he finally managed to get her down on her feet with one hand wrapped around her wrists and while managing to keep her in one place. Turning tear-stained eyes up onto him, his lips pursed and his teeth grit. "You go out there right now, and the same things that those men are doing to those women, will happen to you, too, and _I _won't be able to stop them like Bane could. In fact, if you _do _go out there, then don't expect Bane to help at all. Quite the contrary, he'll think such stupidity should be rewarded!"

"So what am I supposed to do?" She hissed, her expression full of hatred that he would even _suggest _such a thing. "Am I just supposed to sit here and _listen _to them being raped and beaten? One of them is my _friend_ – my _best friend_! And the other . . . well, we've never exactly gotten along, but that still doesn't mean I would wish that kind of hell on her - on _any _woman for that matter!"

Barsad's jaw hardened. "You think I agree with what they are doing? You think if I wasn't in here making sure you didn't do something stupid, that I'd be out there too?" He gave a sharp laugh and a shake of his head. "For your information, _princess_, I don't. And Bane doesn't believe in rape, either, as _shocking _as that might seem to you right now. But he's also smart and he knows that with the kind of men he's being forced to deal with on a regular basis, sometimes . . ." He trailed off and licked his lips. "Sometimes, morals are meant to be overlooked."

Natalie gazed at him for a moment before yanking herself free of him. He allowed her to go with a wary eye and a tense posture as he waited for her to try to lunge past him again, but it wasn't needed. Upon turning, she moved over to the bed, where she took a seat. Shifting with her back planted against the wooden headboard, she tucked her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around them. Sobs and pleads for mercy could be heard through the doors behind him, and she gave a sharp, bitter laugh that accompanied the shaking of her head. "He told me he chose this apartment because it would be comforting to me. How does he expect it to comforting to me now? Every time I walk through those doors, I'll have to face the fact that my best friend was gang raped in the middle of the living room!"

Barsad shook his head, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "They should be leaving any moment. It won't happen here."

She gave another sharp laugh. "And that's supposed to make it better? The knowledge that my friend wasn't gang raped in my living room but somewhere else is _supposed _to make me feel better?"

He gave a shrug and a shake of his head. "If it did, I'd question you."

She sat like that for a long time – until the sun slowly began to sink down below the horizon. Eventually, Barsad left his vigil by the door and moved to take a seat in a nearby armchair. Rubbing his hands together for a moment, he hung his hand and ran his fingers through his hair. She watched him for a moment before swallowing. "So, uh . . . what made you loop yourself in with Bane?" She asked, and Barsad chuckled.

"And this is coming from a woman who doesn't even know Bane from Adam?" He asked, and she looked away.

"Well, by the way he went on about how I was his 'queen' and I would 'rule the crumbling ruins of the city alongside him', I started assuming he's crazy. And I also assumed from the sheer size of him, that's he's very dangerous. And judging by the amount of men he can utilize at any moment, I can also assume he's powerful. And intelligent, if he brought down a bank without being caught. So, I repeat the question: why are you with him?"

"Because he isn't crazy. In fact . . . he's probably the sanest man I've ever met."

Natalie shook her head. "How can you -"

"Even the most insane man always has a method to his madness. What is evil in a world where Hitler and Saddam and Caesar, thought he was doing good? What is . . . insanity when the insane man thinks himself sane? Are they even real, in such a world as this one?"

She gave a small smile. "Dostoyevsky." She spoke and Barsad nodded, a look of respect entering his eyes.

"Very good. You know others?" She nodded.

"Sun Tzu, Marx, Hobbes, Socrates – the classics as well as modern day. I was a Lit Major in college. How I became a bank teller with a masters degree, don't ask . . ." She trailed off, and he nodded.

"Good. Bane will like you more if you can hold intelligent conversation with him. He detests those who he considers ignorant."

"Well, something tells me that's 3/4ths of the earth's population." She muttered caustically, and Barsad refrained from allowing his lips to turn upwards into a smile. After a moment, she gave a feeble nod.

"So, I am . . . this is real, then?" Barsad gave a slow nod and for a moment - a split moment in the ripple of the fabric of time - she thought she caught a glimpse of sympathy in his eyes. However, it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

"Aye. This is all very real, pretty one."

They stayed silent for a moment before he got to his feet. The sounds had long died down in the living room. "They are gone. Good – I'd hate to see what would happen if Bane returned and they weren't," He glanced at her. "You should take a shower and rest. I daresay you'll have quite the day tomorrow." He spoke and she nodded as he moved towards the door. "I shall wait Bane's return."

"Barsad, wait!"

He stiffen slightly before turning around. His expression was hard but a little hesitant when their gazes locked. She gave a small smile. "Thank you." She spoke, not quite sure what she thanking him for. And quite obviously, he wasn't either, for he hesitated a little more before finally speaking:

"Don't – not yet. For I was the one who gave him intelligence on you. I was the one who walked the hallways of your apartment - your life. I was the one who put you in this situation. And for that, you have my deepest apologies."


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks everyone for your support in adding, following and reviewing this story - it means so much to me. That being said, this is an exclusive Blake chapter. Thought it'd be interesting to see things through his perspective - next chapter should be a pure Natalie chapter or a mixture between the two - I don't know which yet. Otherwise, hope you guys like :)**

**takara410 and atiketook: Thanks for the reviews - here's your next chapter :)**

**JayJay(Guest): Hey, now, come on, I've stubbled across a few Bane fics on here that have been halfway decent, so I think that might be a little unfair. That being said, I very much welcome your cheerleading and I hope you keep it up. Even through this exclusive Blake chapter . . . ;) **

**Remember: Read, Review and Enjoy!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

_A Day Later . . ._

"Blake, son, I'm putting my foot down. You _have _to go home!"

Blake gave a stubborn shake of his head at Gordon's words. He was leaning on his elbows on his desk, looking exhausted and utterly miserable. As Gordon moved down the stairs to the main floor and moved to join him, he witnessed Blake tiredly running his fingers through his hair. "With all due respect, sir, I can't. Natalie's still out there and I refuse to rest until I find her and make sure she's safe!" He spoke, voice husky with lack of sleep, but still retaining that hard, determined tone that Gordon reluctantly found himself respecting more often than not. Blake reminded him of himself when he was younger - stubborn, determined and unbelievably hot-headed at times. And in ways, Natalie resembled Barbara, which made Gordon sympathizing with Blake, even easier.

Gordon rolled his eyes before answering: "Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're not gonna find her when you're about to collapse from lack of sleep, son! Now go home and get some rest. I'll keep working the case and if anything new pops up, you'll be the first to know, I promise." He told him with a genial slap on the back. Blake continued to sit there for a moment. He had been up for a day and a half now, worried sick about Natalie – where she was, what was happening to her . . . if she was even alive or dead. The thought sickened him to his stomach and he hadn't eaten for damn near a day and a half, too – hadn't been able to keep anything down. He knew he should go see Gam Gam and probably write or even grow a pair long enough to go see Billy, but couldn't help but think of what the point would be. Billy would be useless sitting in Blackgate the way he was, and Gam Gam . . . who _knew _how much of a setback this would be for her in her condition. And then there was the problem of her nursing home bills that were due at the beginning of the upcoming month . . . the longer he sat there and thought of everything, the more and more claustrophobic he started to feel in his own life. How could he even begin to do _any _of this without her?

He heard Gordon heave a sigh as he clapped a firm hand down on his shoulder. "We'll _find_ her, Blake, I promise! Natalie's a strong woman – she'll be fine! In fact, she's probably already lectured her kidnappers into cleaning their hideout with their toothbrushes!" He spoke with a laugh, and Blake shook his head before turning to look up at him. Gordon recoiled slightly - even the bags of his eyes, had bags.

"How do you know that? How can you _promise _me something like that? We don't know who hit the bank yet, just that there were a lot of them and they were well armed and well trained. We don't know what they wanted _or_ where they took her and Kai. As of right now, we have absolutely_ nothing _to go on and yet, you can stand there and promise me that we'll find her!" He gave a laugh and shook his head as he got to his feet. He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his middle and pointer fingers for a moment. "Damn . . . you know what, I'm sorry, Gordon. I shouldn't have jumped you like that. I'll go home and try to get some sleep. Your right, I need it. I can't carry on like this. Natalie deserves the best I can give to this investigation and this isn't my best. Not by a long shot." Gordon nodded and waved his hand dismissively through the air.

"Think nothing of it – it's to be expected, even. The love of your life and her best friend gets themselves kidnapped during an explosive bank robbery, and you have no idea where they've been taken. You have no idea what's happened to them . . . it's to be expected for you to be a little on edge."

Blake shook his head as he slid on his jacket. "No, that's just . . . look, can I level with you, Gordon?" He asked, and Gordon nodded.

"Yes, of course, Blake."

Blake heaved a sigh and looked away for a moment, appearing almost as if he was rethinking what he was about to say. "Look, don't get me wrong - I'm worried about Kai – of course I am! But at the same time, I can't help but feel like I'd . . . I'd let whoever has them, _keep_ her, if only it meant that I could get Natalie back and have her in my arms again tonight," He swallowed hard and shook his head. "And believe me, I feel like shit for even thinking such a thing and I know it's most probably my worry and exhaustion talking, but all the same, there it is." Gordon stayed silent upon this confession, not really knowing what to say. Finally, Blake ended the slightly awkward silence by giving him a tense smile. "I'm going home. Call me if anything new comes up?" Gordon nodded and returned his smile with one of his own.

"Yes, yes, of course. Have a nice rest of the afternoon." Blake nodded and gave him another tight smile before turning around and heading for the front entrance way, pushing his hands down into his pockets as he did so.

After standing outside and unsuccessfully trying to hail a cab which only ignored him and continued speeding on its way like cabs in big cities were wont to do, he let out a groan and rubbed his face with his hands. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically, he was hungry (even though it'd be useless to eat; he'd just throw it all up again) and he was quickly growing irritable _and _a headache. He needed to get home and get some sleep soon. Gordon was right – he couldn't find Natalie running on fumes.

"Need a ride?"

Blake heaved a sigh and turned around, expecting to see a fellow officer but was shocked to find none other than Bruce Wayne parked on the curb beside him, a small, almost amused smile on his aquiline face. After a moment of having to pick his jaw up off the floor, Blake gave a jerky nod. "I, uh . . . don't wanna put you out of your way." He spoke, and Wayne shook his head.

"Nah, you won't put me out of way. There's a funny thing that I come to realize, though. For some reason, I have all the time in the world, now. And you look exhausted and I owe Gordon a few favors, so . . ." He gave a shrug and a tight smile. "Hop on in. Blake, right?"

Blake eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he nodded. The car door swung out and he ducked into the dim space before closing the door behind him. "Uh, yeah, right. It's Blake – John Blake. How'd you know?" Wayne gave a chuckle.

"Gordon talks about you a lot. You have a lot of potential, apparently." He spoke, and Blake nodded as Wayne's chauffeur pulled away from the curb and out into traffic. "Where to?"

"Oh, I'm sorry – 514 South Talladega Street. Home." Wayne nodded.

"Haven't slept in a few days, huh? You look exhausted, if you don't mind me saying." Blake nodded in agreement.

"That's 'cause I am. My girlfriend, she, uh . . . well, you've probably heard of the bank robbery yesterday by now, right?" Wayne nodded. "Yeah, well, she worked there as a bank teller and ended up being taken by the robbers. Her best friend was, too, but Natalie . . . Natalie's all I really care about right now, as utterly selfish as that sounds." Wayne gave a slow nod.

"I understand. I'm sorry." Blake gave a shrug.

"Thanks, although I don't know what apologies are gonna do. Natalie's a strong woman, I'm sure she's fine, but . . . all the same, we have absolutely no leads, so . . . it's a blind shot in the dark as to where she and Kai are, at the moment."

Wayne gave a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, I don't know about a shot in the dark . . ." Blake shot him a curious look, and Wayne returned it with a smile. "I have a few strings I can pull, if you'd want me to pull them. Maybe I can dig up something for you?" He suggested, and Blake gave a grin and laugh.

"Unless those strings lead to Batman, then don't bother. Everything we've tried so far has led to nothing. No offense, but I don't know why your strings would be any more effective than the station's."

Wayne adopted a small smile on his face and didn't seem insulted by Blake's words. In fact, he even changed the subject, ever-so-slightly. "Batman's been gone for eight years now, and still, people long for his return. Is he truly that needed now, in Gotham?" Blake shook his head.

"It wasn't _him_, per say. Batman was a . . . a _symbol _– something to hope for in the dark. The way I grew up, every single one of us wanted to be Batman. We'd play Batman and Robbers, and . . ." He gave a laugh and a shake of his head. "You know what? Forget about it. It's nothing." Wayne gave him another smile.

"There were a lot of you?"

Blake gave a laugh. "I'd say. Growing up in an orphanage, there's always a lot of you."

"And what about your girlfriend? Natalie, is it? What was her childhood like?" Blake glanced at him, too tired to think anything was odd about Bruce Wayne of all men asking about his girlfriend's childhood.

"Her parents died when she was young, too. Car crash. Her and her brother went to live with her grandmother and were raised by her." Wayne nodded, eyebrow raised in an emotion that Blake, in his half-asleep stage, couldn't readily decipher.

"Two orphans who fell in love with each other despite it all. Now, what are the odds of that happening?"

Blake glanced at him. "In Gotham? I'd say pretty high. And something tells me it's about to get a little bit higher. Pretty soon, Natalie and I are gonna be the majority, not the minority."

* * *

There was a reason Blake had avoided going home once he learned what had happened at the bank. Everything would be as they had left it the morning they both left for work. Natalie's make-up and hairbrush would still be scattered along the bathroom countertop; her clothes that she had taken out of her drawers and the closet and then judged worthy of wearing that work day before deciding against them, would still be scattered across the still unmade bed. Their coffee cups would still be in the dish strainer, their bed . . . he felt himself pause for a moment outside the front door to their apartment. They had made love in that bed the morning they went to work, hadn't they – that morning she was kidnapped? Their bed would still probably smell of them – smell of _her_.

The thought made him feel sick all over again.

Eventually, he realized how strange he must look standing there outside his front door, keys in his hand and a blank expression on his face. Upon realizing this, he quickly stuck his key in the lock and after quickly turning it, opened the door. Stepping into the warm space, he heaved a sigh and closed the door and locked it before tossing his backpack on the nearby armchair. Eyes running over everything in the space surrounding him and registering the sharp pang in his heart, he gave it all a cursory glance before crossing the room. He plopped his cellphone and keys down onto the glass-topped coffee table before heading down the hallway to their bedroom. He avoided gazing at the pictures that hung on the walls – the pictures of them smiling and laughing. Already, he was thinking of her like she was dead, never to return, and he knew he couldn't think like that. She was alive, he knew she was alive – he would have _felt _it if she died! But the pictures . . . seeing the pictures of them smiling and laughing in a happier time, would knock him right straight down into that hole of depression he did _not _want to fall into.

And besides, he was only here to sleep – that was all. He wasn't here to linger.

Stepping into the white tiled bathroom, he saw that her things were indeed still scattered haphazardly across the countertop. Smiling slightly, he stripped quickly before cutting on the shower and hopping underneath the warm spray. Standing there under the water, he allowed it to run in rivulets down his lean, muscular body before running a hand over his face and stepping backwards slightly. Allowing his head to fall back against his shoulders, he allowed the water to run down his front then as he stood there and thought. He hadn't meant to descend so deep into his thoughts - reminiscing on happier times - but he had, and by the time the thoughts had finished running through his head, the shower spray had long gone cold.

Shivering slightly, he quickly washed himself before cutting off the water and stepping out. Dripping puddles onto the floor as he moved, he padded out of the bathroom without even toweling himself off (something that Natalie would no doubt have flipped her lid over). He moved sluggishly to the bed, where he collapsed naked on his front to the soft surface. He closed his eyes and lay there for a moment, trying to drift off to sleep, however, something kept him back.

Rolling over, he lay there and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before getting back to his feet. Grabbing up his pillow and the blanket from the bed, he moved into the living room, where he plopped the things down onto the couch. He couldn't sleep in there – couldn't sleep in their _bed_. It smelled too much like her – proved too much of a distraction to his already exhausted, overworked brain. All he could think of as he lay there, was that grin on her face when they woke up that morning - the way her lips felt pressed to his; the feel of her thick hair in his hands as he kissed her. The silkiness of her skin moving against his - how intoxicating it had been when she uttered his name in a breathless voice in his ear as she came. Her scent of lavender had wrapped around him and filled his head and distracted him instead of allowing him to fall asleep like it should have. So he plopped down onto the couch and tried the same. Closing his eyes, he found himself able to drift off a little easier, but something still held him back from succumbing to sleep for a good while - a fresh onslaught of memories.

_"Oh Christ, John, I can just tell how much you're dying inside because of it!" _

_"Oh, you _know_ I'm fuckin' dyin' inside, Nat!"_

_Jesus fuckin' Christ_, He thought as he rolled onto his back and wearily rubbed at his face with his hand. _Even the _couch_ smells like her!_

* * *

He must have fallen asleep sometime (the time of which, eluded him), for he was awoken much later in the evening by the ringing of his cellphone. Groaning in irritation at being woken up, he flipped over onto his other side and after working his arm out from underneath the blanket covering him, blindly searched for his cellphone amongst the clutter of the coffee table in front of him. When he finally found it, he swiped none-too-kindly across the screen before pressing it to his ear.

"Yeah? Wassup . . .?"

"Good. You got some sleep after all." Gordon spoke, much too cheerful for Blake to like much at that moment, and he nodded as he rubbed the heel of one hand into his right eye. His stomach growled and he was amazed that for _once _since Natalie's kidnapping, he actually _wanted _to eat. Maybe all he really did need was some good old fashioned sleep.

"Yeah, and it was amazing. Now why the hell'd you wake me up?"

"Well, there's good news and bad news that we've gotten since you left this afternoon." Gordon heaved with a sigh, and Blake gave his own sigh as he closed his eyes and willed the sleepy feeling away from his brain so that he could actually _think_.

"Well, start me out with the good news, I guess . . ."

"Well, we know who took Natalie."

All sleepiness instantly disappeared. Blake shot up on the couch, eyes wide and mind racing a mile a minute. They knew where she was, which meant they could get her back now . . . right?

"That's great, Gordon! I'll . . . I'll get dressed and come down to the station -!"

"Well, see now, that's where the bad news comes in, I'm afraid . . ." Gordon interrupted him, an apologetic tone to his voice that Blake did not like _at all_, and which made a heavy lead ball drop down into his stomach. "You sitting down for this, son?"

Blake resisted the urge to get up and scream at him to hurry up and spill it - that he _needed _to find Natalie because God only knew how terrified she was - and when he spoke, his voice was much more level that he had thought. "Yeah, yeah, just . . . _who _took her, Gordon?"

There was silence for a moment and when Gordon finally spoke his name, an icy cold finger of dread ran down Blake's spine. "I'm sorry, John. It was Bane."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey . . . you. Yeah, you, with the computer or the notebook or the phone or whatever else your using to read this chapter. Yeah, go ahead and review. It'd be much appreciated and you can chalk it up as your good deed for the day. Please and thank yous :)  
**

**Natalie's part of this chapter was surprisingly hard to write. I don't know, I guess I haven't exactly mapped out how her and Bane should interact with each other quite yet, so to me, anyway, it feels a bit "stiff" between them. Her interactions with Barsad run much smoother and while he IS going to play a pretty prominent role in this fanfic, I don't necessarily need her interactions with him to be as smooth as hers with Bane are. You guys review and let me know what you think :/**

* * *

After hours of sitting up in indecision, Blake eventually came to the conclusion that he would go see Billy first to deliver the news of Natalie's kidnapping. He figured he mine-as-well get the bad experience out of the way first – an experience he knew right off the bat would be both irritating and extremely migraine-inducing the second he walked into Blackgate's processing and saw the look of slight distaste on the officer's face – almost as if he could hardly believe Blake would have the gall to interrupt whatever important _Playboy _article that had been diverting his attention.

"Can I help you?"

Blake nodded as he moved up to the front desk, only to drum his fingers on the plywood surface when he reached it. "Yeah, I need to see Billy Simmons, prison number 8867452."

The officer heaved a sigh as he tossed the magazine aside before getting to his feet. Hefting his belt up his rather generously large stomach, he moved over to the computer, where he began typing. After a moment, he heaved another sigh and turned a bored look onto him. "Can't. Sorry. He's in isolation."

"What? Why?" He asked, and the guard rolled his eyes before returning to the computer. A few clacking of the keys later and Blake had his answer.

"Billy apparently caused a prison war yesterday at dinner between our resident Aryan and African American populations. There were five deaths and countless wounded. As a result, he's been placed into solitary by Warden Black until further notice." He turned his eyes up to him and gave a tight smile at the flabbergasted look on Blake's face.

"Billy . . . _one guy_, caused that big of a riot?" He asked, and the officer gave a shrug.

"I don't know – you'd have to discuss that with the Warden or Head Officer Kane. Sorry, though. You'll have to come back later. If you leave your number, though, we can call you when he gets out and is put back in Maximum."

Blake gave a tight smile as he withdrew his badge and flashed it to him. "No need. I'm Officer John Blake of the Gotham City Police Department. I need to talk to Mr. Simmons about a case that has recently come to our attention. We think he might, uh . . . have a particular brand of insight that will be unique and very helpful to us."

The officer stood there and gazed at him in silence for a moment before speaking. "Then why haven't we received a fax or a phone call or _something_ from Commissioner Gordon telling us that you would be arriving and would need to see Billy? And why aren't you a detective?" He asked, slowly, and Blake inwardly cursed. He had misjudged. Piggy wasn't as dumb as he looked.

He stood there, gaping for a moment and appearing very much like a fish out of water, when a light chuckling came from beside him. Both the officer and Blake turned to look, only to see a small, petite woman wearing the Blackgate guard uniform and her auburn hair tied back in a ponytail behind her head. She was smiling as if something about this scene intensely amused her, and as Blake furrowed his eyebrows in thought, wondering where the hell he knew this woman from, the officer across the counter gave her a respectful incline of his head.

"Officer Kane. How are you this morning?"

Officer Kane returned his nod. "It's been good, Officer Brody. We had a small spat in workshop, but nothing we couldn't handle. We have a problem here, though?" She asked, that same smile on her face, and Officer Brody shook his head.

"No, ma'am, I was just explaining to Officer Blake here that a prisoner in isolation needs -"

"Wait, I know you!" Blake interrupted him, and Officer Brody sent him a mean look as Officer Kane's smile grew just a bit bigger at his words. "You're . . . Melanie Kane, aren't you? We were in the same graduating class back at the academy?" He spoke and she nodded, her smile turning upwards into a full-fledged grin.

"For a minute, I didn't think you'd remember me, but yeah, it's me. How are you, Blake?" Blake nodded.

"Good. I mean, well . . . not as well as I could be, but I'm . . . I'm trying my best to hang in there." He spoke and she nodded, her grin disappearing in favor of a look of slight concern.

"What's been going on?" She asked, and Blake gave a laugh, knowing an opportunity arising when he saw one.

"Tell you what: you set me up in an interrogation room with Billy Simmons and I'll give you the whole run down of my life for the past few days, okay? Hell, I'll even return to favor by listening to your life story, too."

Officer Brody adopted a scandalized look on his face while Officer Melanie Kane stood there for a moment in front of him, a mischievous twinkle echoing in her big green eyes. She bit down on her bottom lip in what appeared like indecision, before looking away. "Okay. Fine. I can get you fifteen minutes, but that's it. Can you finish up in that amount of time?" She asked, and Blake broke out into a grin and nodded as Officer Brody began sputtering.

"That's great - more than enough time, even!"

"B-But, Officer Kane – that is _grossly _out of bounds!"

"Don't worry about it, Brody, I'll take it up with Black later. He owes me a few favors. Go and call ahead and tell them to put Billy in interrogation room one. We'll make our way down now." She told him, her tone coming out much bitterer than Blake had anticipated. However, those words more than piped him up. He stood there for a moment, as if hesitating on whether or not he should double-check her orders, before giving a shrug. Returning to his seat, he slid the phone towards him, where he picked it up. Quickly dialing a number, he stood there for a minute, waiting, before relaying Melanie's orders to the person on the other side. When he done, he placed the phone back in its carrier before taking a seat. He picked up his _Playboy _and flipped it back open to where he had last been. He had retained a slightly uncertain look on his face the entire time, however.

Melanie Kane turned another grin onto him as they moved through the double doors by the front counter. "What do you need with Billy, if you mind me asking?" She asked, and Blake gave a shrug.

"He's my girlfriend's brother. Something happened to her and I figured I should go ahead and tell him."

Melanie recoiled then, her eyes widening in surprise. "Natalie Simmons is your girlfriend?" She asked, and Blake nodded, his brows furrowing gently.

"Yeah, you know her?" Melanie performed a motion that was a cross between a nod and a shrug, although Blake easily saw through it. She was trying to play it cool despite the disappointment clearly raging inside her.

"Yeah, kinda. I wouldn't say we _knew _each other, knew each other, but we came into contact a few times when whenever she would come in to see Billy. She's . . . really nice." She spoke, somewhat lamely, and Blake nodded, his expression softening.

"Yeah, she's amazing." He spoke, quietly, and Melanie shot him a look.

"What happened to her . . . if you don't mind me asking, again, of course."

They continued to walk in silence for a moment before he spoke, his voice still as quiet as it had been before. "You know that robbery at the bank down on Broadway?" Melanie nodded.

"Yeah, of course I do. It's been in the news practically nonstop since it happened. Why?" Blake nodded.

"She worked there as a bank teller and was there when it was robbed. She and her best friend were taken. Kidnapped, I guess you could say."

A look of sympathy appeared on Melanie's face then. "Oh Blake, I'm so sorry!" She spoke, and Blake nodded. He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he averted his eyes to the white linoleum floor underneath their feet.

"Thanks. It's . . . just been a couple of days, but already, it's been hard. We finally found out who took her, but . . . I don't think we're gonna be able to do anything about it and I don't. . I have _yet _to comprehend that. And then all this shit is starting to happen and I don't know if I can do this without her . . ." He trailed off and Melanie looked away.

"Who took her?"

Blake didn't answer for a moment. "I probably shouldn't answer that."

"But you're going to, right?" She asked with a smirk, and he glanced at her before shaking his head.

"Nope. That's called 'sensitive information' and I'm not at liberty to say." He told her and she gave a laugh and a nod.

"Oh yes, of course, how could I question it? The fate of Gotham hinges on that man's identity remaining a tightly locked secret for now." She spoke, somewhat sarcastically, and Blake nodded, not able to help feeling a twinge of irritation towards her tone.

"It does. More than you think," He murmured and she nodded, although he caught a slightly nervous edge to her body language. He glanced at her. "So what about you? What's been up with you since we graduated?" He asked, trying to lighten the air between them, and she gave a shrug.

"Oh, nothing nearly as stressful as what you've been going through lately. Just working a lot." She told him, casually, and he nodded, knowing that she would have said a lot more and in a lot more of a flirtatious tone if he _hadn't_ mentioned the fact that that he was in a relationship with Billy Simmons' kid sister.

After a moment, they appeared in front of a long line of doors each painted with a simple black number on them. Melanie took him to the first door and stopped. "Okay, Billy should be in there. You'll have fifteen minutes, okay?" Blake nodded.

"Thanks. Should be all the time I need." He told her and she gave a slow nod.

"I'll be out here in case you need me, but I don't think he'll try anything, though. He's in some deep shit and he knows it." He nodded again and they shared a tight smile before he grasped the doorknob, turned it, and stepped into the room. Billy Simmons was sitting at the flimsy card table situated in the middle of the room, handcuffed hands resting on the face. Blake stood there for a minute, gazing at him and once again wondered how two people who gave birth to someone as small and petite as Natalie, could first have given birth to someone as massive as Billy.

He was tall – taller than Blake was – at around six foot three, and was as massive as he was tall – his body hard and corded with muscle. His face was gaunt, though – dark brown eyes and cheeks sunken and his skin pallid compared to the rich bronze tone both him and his sister used to share. The dark chestnut colored hair that he shared with his sister, as well, lay pomaded back against his head, although if Blake was being honest, he doubted if it wasn't so much pomade now, than simple grease. But despite that, he was still handsome. Judging from Billy and Natalie, good looks obviously ran in the Simmons family.

He sneered when he caught sight of Blake standing there, and shook his head. "Gotta say, man, you were the last person I expected to walk through that door. What you doing here?" He asked, and Blake gave a laugh.

"Man, no offense, but you look _rough_!" He remarked, and Billy gave a snort of laughter.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock!" He nodded at him. "Where's Nat? Normally she's the one who comes."

Blake didn't answer him, and instead, took the time to move over to the chair opposite him, where he took a seat. When he spoke, he found it hard to look Billy in the eye. When he did, he didn't just see concern. He also saw a certain gleam there that unsettled him slightly. This was the kind of guy who would never get out of the system now. Constant prison life had ruined him – twisted and turned him into someone that he never should have become. Billy would never be released and then be able to function as a normal human being on the outside. That was, if he ever did get released again.

The thought saddened him. Blake knew how much Natalie loved her brother – how much _Billy _loved his little sister and how fiercely he would fight through hell to protect her. He knew how much it hurt her knowing that Gam Gam would probably die never seeing Billy again; that their children would never get to know their uncle through anything thinner than a plate of Plexiglas and speak to him through nothing more but the disgusting mouthpiece of a black phone.

"Something's happened, Billy . . ." He spoke, trailing off, and Billy nodded.

"Obviously. Why else would you be here instead of her?" His voice was hard and thick – the voice of a man who was obviously trying to keep his cool when he so desperately didn't want to.

"The bank that Nat worked at, was robbed a couple days ago." He told him and while Billy remained silent, Blake saw him swallow hard.

"Is she okay?"

Blake sat there for a minute and for a minute, was alarmed at the sudden connection the both of them had. A heavy air of concern and fear settled down around them and for the first time since he first got the news of her kidnapping, Blake finally found himself sitting there with someone who the news would hit just as hard as it hit him – maybe even harder. Blake got to see Natalie every single day – got to come home and see her, got to eat dinner with her, fall asleep beside her. He woke up beside her every single day . . . Billy, on the other hand, only saw his sister once or twice a month if he was lucky.

Blake finally shook his head and he heard the harsh breath Billy expelled from his lungs. "The bank was robbed and she was taken – kidnapped, more likely, because we haven't been contacted and given a demand like in a hostage situation. Shit, Billy, we don't even know where she is!"

"Who?"

Blake glanced up at him, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean, 'who'?"

"I mean, who . . . the fuck . . . took her?" Billy asked, his cuffed hands rolling into fists on the table as his jaw hardened, and Blake gave a laugh.

"Man, why the fuck do you care? It ain't like you can do anything in here!"

It was Billy's turn to give a laugh. "You really want to take that tone, Flatfoot? 'Cause I can say just as much shit as you can. For instance, you say I can't do shit in here – what the fuck are you doing out _there_? Don't know where she is – only just _now _figured out who the fuck took her. What fuckin' good are you, Blake?" He shot him a look of disgust. "Man, I fuckin' hate you, you know that, I know that, Nat knows that – it's been that way for a long fuckin' time. And right now, with this news, I _definitely _fuckin' hate you!"

"Why? Because I'm a cop? Is that it? Or are you just that typical overprotective older brother who thinks that no man is good enough for his little sister?" Blake asked, his own tone taking on a definitively disgusted tone. Billy shook his head.

"You think you being a cop is the _only _reason? Yeah, it's a pretty big reason, but -"

"Jesus Christ, you know, that is _so _typical of you criminal types!" Blake interrupted him, a shock of anger in his voice now. "You think-you think you're above the law and when you get caught because you did something _stupid_, you don't blame yourselves for getting yourself into that mess, you blame _us_ for catching you and the _law _for putting you away! You know, you're never gonna see the streets again, Billy? Gam Gam is going to _die_ never having seen you again and wondering why the fuck that is because Natalie is _definitely_ never going to tell her where you are because she is so fucking terrified how hard that news will hit her! You chose your path and the least you can do _now, _is admit that it was _you _who that chose that path and no one else, and learn to live with it. You weren't coerced into breaking the law – _you _chose to break the law on your own terms." He shook his head and gave a bitter laugh then.

"And you know what? You can hate me all you want to – I don't give a flying fuck. But the least you can do is give me the respect I deserve as your little sister's boyfriend who _loves her_ and supports her and would never hurt her. And I swear to God, Billy, if I thought I could get away with it, I'd slam your head into this table for insinuating that I wasn't doing everything in my power to get her back because I _am_! To say anything different is a direct confrontation to how much I love her and do not _ever _doubt that!"

He sat there for a moment, trying desperately to get himself under control and when he did to a suitable extent, he spoke again: "And for your information, when I _do _find her and I finally propose to her, I _am _going to come down here and get your blessing first. I know how much that would make her happy."

Billy recoiled at that in surprise but quickly regained his mental balance and schooled his expression back into one of blankness. "You have balls, Blake. I didn't think you did." He eventually spoke, and Blake nodded.

"Why, because I talked back to you? Not hard to do when you're sitting there handcuffed." He spoke, and Billy chuckled.

"Oh believe me, Blake, that doesn't matter. I don't need to have my hands free to seriously hurt someone _or _to kill them."

"So you're a murderer now? I heard what you did from Officer Kane. I would say impressive, but for some reason, 'stupid' pops in my head first." He spoke, eyebrow arching as he did so, and Billy gave a shrug.

"I'm looking to spending the rest of my life in here, Blake. And when you're facing that kind of a sentence, you find ways to not only keep you busy, but to keep you alive, too, without becoming some black dude's girlfriend and changing your name to Cristal. That's what I've done," He shook his head, his expression hardening. "And I _ain't_ becoming some black dude's girlfriend and changing my name to Cristal. You can fuckin' forget it."

Blake nodded and sat there for a moment in silence again. Eventually, he rapped his knuckles on the card table and spoke: "Bane. It was Bane who took her." He spoke, and the wide-eyed look of fear and shock on Billy's face, then, made a lead stone drop into Blake's stomach.

"Jesus _Christ_, Blake!"

"You've heard of him?"

"_Heard_ of him? Of fuckin' course I've heard of him!" Billy spoke with a laugh before leaning forward. "We have some of his guys here in maxi, although a majority of 'em are in solitary – they don't last long in maxi and even shorter in gen pop. They keep to themselves and no one even thinks of fuckin' with 'em. They are the most bloodthirsty, ruthless men in here – even the Aryan's give those bastards a wide berth!" He shook his head, his expression turning pained. "Blake, I don't . . . if Nat's been taken by _Bane_, I don't . . . I don't know if you'll ever get her back. Bane's a legend in here – a veritable boogeyman if you want to go that far. Even the most hardened psychos of our ranks, wouldn't fuck with him even if you paid them!"

"By _why _would he have taken her, Billy? That's what I don't get – Bane's an international terrorist known for his ruthlessness. He doesn't _take _hostages – he kills everyone and anyone who gets in his way. Why would he take her and Kai?"

Billy gave a shrug. "I don't know. But I don't like it. Blake, Bane doesn't target just anyone. Natalie did _something _to catch his eye, and he _planned _out that robbery at the bank – he had to. Which means, he had to have been watching you guys practically 24/7 to get the information he needed to do it successfully."

Blake swallowed hard. "He was stalking her?"

"If not him, then he got someone close to him to do it," Billy shook his head. "I'm tellin' you, Blake, nothing this man does is a spur-of-the-moment decision. Everything is planned out methodically – down to the last _letter_. He knew Natalie would be working at the bank that afternoon and he knew that would be the best chance he had to take her. I don't what Natalie did, Blake, but whatever it was, was big enough to both catch his eye _and _cause him to kidnap her," He looked down and licked his lips. "You find her Blake, and you hurry. I can't help but have a bad feeling about where she is."

* * *

Natalie awoke that morning groggy and fuzzy-headed and not at all where she wanted to be. She was laying in the fetal position underneath the jersey covers of the great king-sized bed she had fallen into the previous evening after a rather quick shower. She had gone to bed desperately hoping to awake, that morning and find herself in the one she shared with Blake back at their apartment - that the entire experience had just been one big nightmare. She wanted to awake seeing Blake still sleeping soundly beside her, arm slung over his eyes like he was wont to do.

When she awoke, though, only to find that her wishes had not come true and she was still in the same bed in the same infernal apartment she had been in for the last couple of days, a feeling of profound sadness that bordered on depression, would always descend upon her. Tears would fill her eyes and she would pull the covers over her head and lay there in the darkness for a while, trying not to cry but always failing miserably. She missed him - missed everyone. She wanted him – she wanted Blake and Gam Gam and Billy. She didn't want to be here – she didn't want _any_ of this! She didn't _ask _for any of this!

Eventually, though, she would drag herself out of bed and reluctantly towards the double doors that separated her haven from the rest of the apartment which _He _dominated. She knew if she lingered in bed too long, he would march in and get her up himself or otherwise send in Barsad, who would get her up but in a decidedly gentler fashion. She loathed either happening, though. She was a big girl and she _would_ be strong – as strong as she needed to be. Part of recognizing that strength but was also recognizing the fact that she could still get herself up in the morning.

Her thoughts drifted to the man beyond those two doors for a moment when she reached them, and shuddered. Bane. Her captor and the bane of her existence. She never remembered hating someone so passionately in her life, before him.

Opening the doors, she found Bane, Barsad and one of his lieutenant's she had yet to learn the name of, sitting on the three couches in front of the fireplace and TV. A map of Gotham and papers, were scattered out over the face of the coffee table between them. Immediately, Bane's eyes snapped onto her and she avoided his gaze as she shambled her way into the kitchen and the pot of coffee she knew was already made. As far as she knew, Bane didn't drink coffee, but strangely, it was always made when she got up. She didn't know Bane's sleeping habits and as far as she knew, they were the only two ever in the apartment aside from Barsad at times, so it only made sense that he was the one who made it.

Which means he made it strictly for her, because he knew she liked to drink it in the morning. The thought both terrified her and strangely made her heart warm. What else did he know about her?

She also wasn't hungry an would catch a bite to eat later at lunch if she could even keep it down, that was.

"As far as we know, this is how many people are going to be down there when the bombs actually go off . . ."

"No, no, not nearly that many. Stefan went to investigate a few days ago and he said there were actually fewer than that. They lie about their numbers to both soothe the masses and to act like they have control over any given situation."

"Well, they won't over this one. However many is going to be down there, though, doesn't matter, just as long as they _are_ there. I won't have the police giving hope to those who think they will protect them so they don't have to themselves." Bane's mechanical voice ended the quiet discussion. She had hardly paid attention, content to stand there in front of the coffeemaker after readying her coffee and sip it. The warmth flooded through her veins and she closed her eyes and savored the taste as it washed over her tongue and down her throat. She felt a small smile come to her face despite the circumstances she was in. There was truly nothing like coffee in the morning.

"Excuse me, pretty one . . ."

Barsad's quiet voice broke through her reverie and she jumped, her eyes growing wide as she immediately turned her eyes onto him. She had been standing there for so long and so deep in her own thoughts, that she had hardly taken notice of the man coming up behind her, empty mug in one hand.

"Oh, sorry . . ." She murmured and he silently nodded as she stepped aside to allow him to refill his mug. She stood there, still taking cautious but soothing sips of her coffee as her eyes scanned the man standing in front of her. He glanced at her and while he did not smile, she saw it echoing in his beautiful blue eyes, nonetheless.

"How do you like it?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Like what?"

He chuckled. "The coffee, pretty one. What else?"

Her eyebrows rose. "Oh, so _you_ made it?"

He nodded. "I make it every morning. I like it and Bane also likes a cup every now and then. I also couldn't help but notice that you have a particular affinity for it, as well," He glanced at her and gave a nonchalant shrug. "It's nothing."

"Oh . . . well regardless, thank you." She spoke and he smiled and nodded.

"Of course." He gave her a respectful incline of his head before turning and moving back into the living room where his compatriots were waiting for him. She stayed where she was, almost done with her mug and knowing that any minute would have her back in that living room, with Bane's eyes pinned on her like a hawk's. She felt sick at the thought.

"Come in here, little one . . ."

Natalie's heart fell into her stomach when she heard Bane calling for her from within the living room. After placing her mug on the counter, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and stepped into the warmly decorated space. Standing behind the couch of the man she did not know, she found herself immediately beset by both Bane and Barsad's gazes, although Barsad was a lot let blatant in his gazing of her, content to sip at his coffee while observing the map of Gotham unfolded in front of them. She met Bane's eyes unflinchingly, though, and even managed to keep the loathing from her voice when she answered him with a simple yes.

"I will be gone for the rest of the afternoon today with Barsad and some of the others. I expect you to stay here and not foolishly try to escape. I'll return when I can, although I am unsure of when exactly that will be."

Natalie nodded. "Yes. Okay. Whatever."

Barsad arched a brow as he brought his mug of freshly refilled coffee, to his lips. Bane's face and eyes remained largely expressionless. "Are you in need of anything?" He asked, and Natalie's brows rose.

"No. I have everything I need. I'll be fine." Her tone was simple – dismissive. She could see it was starting to grate on his nerves a little. "And I won't try to escape. I'm not stupid – I know how foolish it would be. Wouldn't want your men doing to me what you allowed them do to Kai, now would we?"

Barsad's movements slowed at her words and immediately, he turned his eyes onto Bane sitting hulking and stoic on the couch beside his. His expression was still largely expressionless but when he spoke, his tone belied all the irritation he was starting to feel. "I would allow nothing of the sort to happen to you, little one."

She gave a snort of laughter. "Yeah, wouldn't want to rob you of that pleasure first, right?"

The words were released from her mouth before she could fully comprehend she said them, and when she did, she immediately wished she could take them back and stuff them into the deepest recesses of her thoughts, where they would never see the light of day. Barsad stiffened from his spot on the couch he was sitting on, as Bane got to his feet. Slowly, he moved around his couch and over to her. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as he moved to stand beside her. He towered over her short frame – his muscular bulk positively dwarfing her petite, voluptuous frame. Once again, he frightened her, and once again, she cursed herself for the stupidity of her loose mouth.

"If I wanted you, there would be nothing you could do to stop me, little one, just like if I wanted to, that flimsy little lock on those doors, would do naught to keep me out. If I so wished, I would take what I wanted from you, and no matter how much you screamed and begged, no one would come to your rescue and there would be no mercy. But I don't, because I don't believe in forcing a woman to bed with a man she does not want. Be grateful for that kindness."

Natalie felt the harsh burn of tears in her eyes as she turned her gaze up to his. For a moment, she returned his stare with an iron strength before speaking. "You will _never_ know that pleasure. You'll have to kill me for it." She spoke, quietly, dangerously, and after a moment, Bane nodded, slowly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a slight smile come across Barsad's face, however, it disappeared quickly.

"I know that. For now. But eventually, my little queen, I will have you because eventually, you _will_ want me. And like me breaking down those doors, there will be nothing you can do when that time comes."


	7. Chapter 7

**Can I have some reviews, sir? Can I have some more . . .?**

**Yeah, I just copied Charles Dickens - what of it? Reviews WOULD be largely appreciated. I have all these subscribers and no reviews. Correlation does not match up ladies and gents! Come on . . . I promise I won't bite!**

**CLTex and Guest, however, thank you guys muchly for your reviews! You both get virtual cookies! Or potatos if you a 9gagger :)**

* * *

Only four hours since Bane left flanked by Barsad and his unnamed lieutenant, and already, Natalie was bored out of her mind, almost to the point of deliriousness. She had made up her bed and taken a quick shower before choking down a breakfast of nothing more but toast and a glass of orange juice. After that, she had gone through her cabinets with an overly critical eye. Her fridge and cabinets were surprisingly well stocked, as well as her bathroom cabinets and medicine cabinet. The bookshelves were chock full of her favorite titles, as well as a few new editions that she had never read but which seemed interesting to her. There was also a record player in the living room situated beside the TV and fireplace, of which all the records were her favorites. The mahogany cabinet on the other side of the TV and fireplace, was full to bursting with DVDs and videogames along with an Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3. She wasn't a big gaming nut – that was Blake – but occasionally she liked to play when there was nothing else to do. The DVDs were her favorites, as well, and like the bookcase, also included a few editions she thought looked interesting, but had never seen.

Barsad had done his job well, she had to give him that.

She wandered aimlessly around the apartment after rifling through all her cabinets to see just _what _was in each of them. All the blinds were up on the windows in the living room and when she peered out through them, she could see the empty streets below. They looked unfamiliar but that didn't surprise her. Of course Bane would have the brains and the common sense to take her and whisk her off to a part of the city she was completely unfamiliar with. She could also see a few men wandering aimlessly along the sidewalks, cigarettes and cellphones in hand, and knew – almost intuitively – that they were some of Bane's men dressed casually - to better blend in with the surrounding scenery. They were also probably there to make sure she didn't escape or rescued.

She stayed in front of the windows for a moment, allowing the sun's rays to wash over and warm her, before she hesitantly placed the heels of her hands on the upper frame of the window. Pushing upwards, she wasn't surprised when the window didn't budge in the slightest. Of course it would be locked or nailed shut. That would have been way too easy and she knew Bane would not want to risk her jumping out of desperation. Damn.

Pushing herself off of the sill, she clasped her hands behind her back and after canting her head slightly to side, wandered over to the one door still closed. The double doors to her bedroom were open, as well as the one leading to the kitchen, which was always open. Reaching it, she pressed a hand to its surface before grasping the knob and turning it. It came to a stop after a slight rotation and she furrowed her brow in confusion. Locked? Why would it be locked? The front door and the windows, she could understand, but this one? Why was _this _one locked?

Was it Bane's room, is that why it was locked?

She pressed her ear to it briefly but withdrew when there was nothing beyond that would be particularly alarming (she didn't know why there would be). Her curiosity longed from sated but knowing there was nothing else she could do, she moved away from the door and wandered off back over to the couches. She took a seat on the one Barsad had occupied, tucking her feet up under her, and allowed her eyes to wander around the room from her new vantage point. The coffee table was cleared of the map and papers that had been on it earlier; its glass surface gleaming that clear, Windex shine. In fact, everything was spotless, and she found herself wondering who cleaned up around here. Was it Bane and his obvious military training that kept everything so neat and orderly, or did he order one of his men to do it? _Or_ was that expected to fall to her now that she was here? She couldn't imagine his paranoid self hiring a maid.

She sat there for a moment, thinking and daydreaming, until the unlocking and opening of the front door caused her to jump to her feet, heart pounding in her chest. Eyes widening, she darted to see who had entered the apartment, only to recoil when she saw it was just a woman.

A stunningly beautiful woman.

The woman smiled upon catching sight of Natalie, her hazel eyes lighting up with a friendly gleam. Her shoulder length, chestnut colored hair fell loose and free around her shoulders and she juggled two paper grocery bags in her arms as she struggled to re-lock the door behind her. Who was this woman, and more importantly, why did she possess a key to this apartment? Was she the apartment's previous owner that was allowing Bane to rent it or use it?

"Oh good, you're up! I did not wish to disturb you by coming in uninvited, but I wanted to drop off a few things that you might need. After all, I doubt they were thought of when they were stocking and renovating this place . . ." She spoke, trailing off, and Natalie gave a slow nod of her head.

"Uh, who are you? And why are you here delivering my groceries and-and whatever else I presume is on that list your holding?"

The woman smiled and held up the scrap of paper in her hand before quickly shoving it down into the back pocket of her jeans. "I'm sorry, how rude of me! I know practically everything about you, and here you are, not even knowing my name! Oh, I feel so embarrassed!" She blushed lightly and Natalie felt her teeth grit slightly. "My name's Miranda – Miranda Tate. And no reason in particular. Maybe I simply wanted to meet the woman who has ensnared Bane to the point to where he is allowing her to live with him!"

Natalie recoiled, her eyes widening. "I . . . you make it out like I'm his . . . his _girlfriend_, or something."

Miranda gave a gentle laugh that immediately made a flare of jealously rise up in Natalie's stomach. She moved into the living room, where she deposited the paper bags onto the coffetable. That laugh . . . it sounded like the tinkling of church bells on Sunday. No earthly woman's laugh should sound that beautiful. "No, Bane does believe in such titles as those. But he does care for you, make no mistake about it. I also see you have tried to escape?"

She nodded towards the scratches around the doorknob of the front door from the previous day, one of her delicately plucked eyebrows raised in interest. Natalie swallowed hard and anxiously pulled down the sleeve of her shirt, trying to hide the nasty purple-black bruise that was just now forming on her upper arm. Miranda shook her head, a soft look appearing in her eyes. "I wouldn't try it anymore, dear one, but no doubt you already know that. Bane will not take kindly to such impudence for long."

"So says the man locking me up like I'm some kind of animal!" She snapped before she could stop herself. Instead of reacting badly, though, Miranda simply continued to smile, almost serenely and with infinite patience.

"You should also work on your attitude, as well. I'm surprised Bane hasn't killed you yet for your sharp tongue. Normally, he does not like people talking to him in such a way."

Natalie gave a scoff. "How do you know I talk to _him _this way? Do I have 'stupid' written across my forehead?"

These words finally made Miranda pause and after a moment, she turned an expressionless gaze onto her. She slowly shook her head. "No. No, I do not think you are stupid in the least. Quite the contrary, I think you are a very intelligent woman. But I do think you are rash and sometimes speak before you think. And that can be a very bad thing with Bane if you are not careful. It is not wise to tempt him."

Natalie gave a stiff nod. "Thanks for the advice." She spoke, her tone more scathing than she had intended, and Miranda gave her another one of those serene smiles of hers in return. She nodded.

"Advice that you no doubt are already aware of, I'm sorry. Still . . . sometimes, it helps to hear it from another person."

Natalie's jaw hardened again. Something about this woman and her serene smiles full of infuriatingly infinite patience, made every red flag possible, pop up in her head. Something about her rubbed her the wrong way and wouldn't stop however-so-long she was in her presence. In other words, there was something _wrong _with this woman. Unfortunately, Natalie couldn't exactly put her finger on exactly _what _it was, yet.

All she knew was that she wanted her gone. Bane was one thing to have around her since she was miraculously starting to get used to him and his hulking presences and his stoic silences. She also knew Bane wouldn't hurt her unless it came with his own twisted yet strangely logical reason. This woman, despite the serene, friendly smile she was giving her, held a note of hardness in her eyes that was unmistakable. This woman would not be like Bane. She would hurt her just because she could. Just because she was expendable.

Eventually, Natalie moved to cross her arms in front of her chest, where she gave her a tight smile. "Well, thanks for stopping by, I guess. You should probably leave now, though, I'm . . . I think I might go lay down. I'm very tired, you see . . ."

Her words trailed off, and Miranda gazed at her for a moment, face expressionless, before she smiled and stepped forward, where she stretched her hand out to her. "Oh, well then, allow me to get out of your hair. It was very nice meeting you, Natalie." She spoke, and Natalie gave another tight smile and a nod.

"Yes . . . you too." She spoke as she shook her hand. They shared tight smiles before dropping the other's hand like they both had leprosy. Natalie stood there, arms still crossed in front of her chest and watched as she left the apartment. She heard the lock turn and darted forward, where she quickly jiggled the doorknob. It was indeed locked and while she released a breath of relief, she nonetheless felt a little uneasy about being trapped in an apartment with no way out while some woman she didn't know held a key to both the door and the elevator.

Again, Bane was one thing. She was starting to understand Bane and his quirks. This strange woman, on the other hand . . . the entire air surrounding her, unnerved her.

After a moment of collecting herself, she moved slowly back over to the coffetable, where she took another seat on the couch she had vacated earlier. She gazed apprehensively at the two paper sacks and for a moment, contemplated on having Bane go through them first when he got home. However, she eventually decided against it and after a few heavy seconds passed, grasped the two bags in-between her thumbs and forefingers, and pulled them towards her. She peeked inside and upon becoming satisfied that there were no ticking time bombs or carefully hidden needles placed inside, she began unloading everything onto the glass face of the coffetable.

There were sanitary pads, fashion magazines, nail polish, files and remover, as well as other girly things inside, that were otherwise overlooked when Barsad had done his run-down of her and Blake's apartment and they were stocking and renovating this one. She found herself smiling when she picked up the bottle of scarlet red nail polish and then took a look at her nails already coated with their own chipped navy blue paint. They _were_ looking a little ragged . . .

A ding from the elevators, echoed throughout the apartment, and Natalie moved to yank up the two paper sacks and crumple them before getting to her feet. Moving into the kitchen, she threw them into the trash before turning around. The door opened and closed and Barsad stalked past her, a box in his arms. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she darted out of the tiled space.

"What's that?"

"None of your business." He spoke, his tone clipped, as he made his way to the locked door she had investigated previously. Continuing to stand there, she watched as he set the box down and quickly fished a key out of the front pocket of his jeans. Unlocking the door, he picked up the box and opened it just enough for him to dart inside. Crossing her arms again, she waited until he was done and had reappeared before she spoke.

"What's in _there_?"

Barsad glanced at her as he quickly re-locked the door. Jiggling the doorknob for a moment to make sure it was locked, he replaced the key in his pocket when he was satisfied, and turned to gaze at her. "What's in where?"

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Oh don't play dumb – you know where! _There_!" She replied with a nod towards the door. He glanced behind him at the door before giving a shrug. A look of amusement crossed his eyes.

"None of your business," He spoke, and Natalie glared at him for a moment before turning and moving back to the couches, where she plopped down. Barsad stood there for a moment before hesitantly following her. "What's all this?" He asked, and she glanced at him before picking up the bottle of polish remover. She glanced at him before propping her foot up on the edge of the table.

"Some woman named Miranda brought them by earlier. Said they were a few things you guys missed when you were putting the apartment together."

Barsad gave a slow nod as he moved to take a seat on the couch beside hers. He took a moment to gaze at the small pile of fashion magazines before moving over everything else sitting there. He gave an almost uneasy look when he was done. "How did you . . . how did you like Miranda?"

Natalie gave a shrug as she focused on wiping away the leftover nail polish from her toenails with an alcohol soaked cotton ball. "She was . . . nice. A little bit _too _nice, I thought, but . . . whatever," She gave another shrug. "I'm just glad she eventually left. She made me feel uneasy the longer I was around her."

Barsad nodded and looked away as he ran his fingers over his lips. "I'll have to tell Bane she stopped by . . ." He murmured, and she shot a confused look his way.

"Why? He didn't know she was stopping by?" Barsad shook his head.

"Not that I know of. And he's . . . he's been very particular on who knows you're staying here. For your own safety, you know?" He glanced at her, then. "And I don't want to worry you, pretty one, but . . . Bane _never_ gave her a key. As far as I know, he and I are the only ones who have them and again, for security reasons. It's a lot easier to keep track of two than . . ." He trailed off and heaved a sigh. "I don't . . . I don't know _how_ she could have managed to get her hands on a copy and if that worries _me_, then think how that'll effect Bane!"

Natalie felt an icy finger of dread run and down her spine at his words. Her movements stilled entirely, and slowly, she turned her eyes up onto his. They were wide with shock and fear and after a moment, she shook her head. "She was . . . and she was _in here_? With _me_? _Alone_?"

Barsad gave a wry smile as he uneasily ran his fingers over his lips again. "Bane isn't going to like this. He wanted to keep you a secret from her for as long as possible -"

For some reason, that struck her like a slap. Jaw hardening again, she straightened up slightly and didn't hesitate to interrupt him. "Why would he want to hide me from her? Why does it matter to her if I'm here?" Barsad glanced at her.

"Bane and Miranda, they have . . . they have a past together. And Miranda, she can get . . . well, she has a tendency to get a little jealous sometimes," He shook his head and leaned forward slightly, where he held a hand out to her. "Please, understand, pretty one, that he was trying to keep you from everyone, only for your own safety!"

Natalie let out a scoff of a laugh. "So, she's just a jealous ex of his, is that it?"

Barsad frowned slightly as he averted his gaze away from her, then. "I don't know if I would go _that _far . . ."

"'Cause that's certainly what it sounds like to me!" She spoke with a laugh as she threw the cotton ball away from her and onto the table. Barsad pursed his lips. He opened his mouth to speak, but the dinging of the elevator diverted their attentions. Natalie's heart immediately picked up its beat, only to skyrocket when Bane stepped into the living room, but not like it normally did. Barsad's eyes widened, as well, at the sight of his leader covered in blood. Natalie blanched as Barsad shot to his feet.

"Bane, are you -?"

"Calm down, Barsad, I'm fine!" Bane interrupted him, a tone of slight irritation lacing his voice. He glanced at the white Natalie before flickering his eyes back onto his second. His voice lowered to an almost confidential tone. "I've been shot. It's in my arm - I'm fine - but nevertheless . . . it's annoying. And I didn't want to say anything in front of the men . . ."

Barsad nodded before darting into the bathroom beyond the bedroom, where he began rummaging around for something. Bane gazed at her for a moment before moving to take a seat on one of the couches. Immediately, Natalie jumped to her feet and darted over to him, where her hands ghosted over his chest. "Oh no you don't, mister! Do you _know_ how hard it is to clean blood out of fabric, especially sofa fabric?"

A look of amusement entered Bane's eyes then, and he watched as she pursed her lips before heading straight for the dirty clothes basket sitting beside the washing machine in the kitchen. Reaching inside, she plucked out two dirty towels before returning to him and the couches. "You're covered in blood and smell like a slaughterhouse, so I'm sure you won't object to these towels being dirty?" She asked, her tone clipped and brooking no argument. Bane gave a shrug.

"I've smelled worse and I've been on worse." He spoke, and she nodded and spread them out before gesturing for him to sit.

"I've figured, but you never know." She sighed as he took a seat, lowering himself down much more gracefully than she could ever have imagined a man his size could. And really, while his movements _were_ often bold and sweeping - _powerful -_ there was also a grace and fluidity to them that reminded her best of a big cat – a lion or a tiger on the prowl. The ferocity of his personality matched the two cats, as well, and for only a moment, she found himself wondering what he would look like when he was fighting. Would he retain that same grace and fluidity? Or would he mirror Goro's big, bludgeoning movements (once again, thanks Blake for the gaming reference), as he pulverized his enemies into submission?

After a moment, she wrinkled her nose. "You're covered in blood! Where were you shot again?"

Bane flexed his right bicep, causing Natalie to flinch. She wondered at how he could possibly bear to flex a muscle that had a bullet in it but then realized the analgesic in his mask probably kept him from feeling such pain. She shook her head as the wrinkle in her nose fell down into a grimace. "Barsad shouldn't take out that bullet with you looking like this. Wait one moment."

Turning on her heels, she disappeared into the kitchen, where she immediately began rattling through the cupboards. Finding a good sized bowl, she filled it with hot water and snatched up a few folded dishrags before moving back into the living room. Placing the bowl and the rags on the nearby coffetable, she took a seat on her knees in-between his parted legs. Turning around and soaking one of the rags in the water, she had to focus to keep her hands from shaking. Her heart continued to pound in her chest like an African drum at the close proximity between them, and tried not to freak out at being around him in such close proximity. She wasn't sure just _why _she was doing this – wouldn't it be in her best interest if she _didn't _help him and he died of gangrene or infection beccause Barsad _hadn't _had a clean area to work with? However, something inside her compelled her to help him. Call it compassion, call it human nature, call it that she liked Barsad and simply wanted to make _his _job easier – whatever! – she just knew she had to help.

"Is this . . . someone else's blood on you?" She asked, knowing it was stupid question but felt compelled to ask it, all the same. She could practically see the smirk he was wearing behind his mask as she brought up the rag to gingerly wash away the blood forming around the bullet hole torn into his biceps. Christ, he could have just wrapped it instead of letting it bleed like he did!

"It is a mixture of mine and others. Why? Does it bother you, little one?"

Natalie chuckled as she wrung out her rag before re-soaking it again. When she was done, she carefully began cleaning the blood out from within the intricate little spaces of his mask. "Hun, don't be silly! Blood's never bothered me. Its shit and vomit I can't handle without wanting to throw my guts up."

"Is that why you have no children?"

Natalie felt herself come to a grinding halt at his quite rude and quite out-of-the-blue question. After a moment of allowing it to sink in, she resumed her movements, albeit at a stiffer pace. "That's very complicated." She murmured, her tone telling him to drop it, and thankfully, he did. He nodded almost sagely as his eyes wandered her face - almost as if he was committing every little dip and curve of her features to memory. He stayed silent then and allowed her to clean him with a patience and stillness that reminded her most immediately of a monk during meditation. His hands remained on his knees the entire time and not one inch of him moved throughout the entire process. His eyes did remain on her face, though, and she found herself avoiding them, scared of what she would find echoing within the beautiful depths as he gazed at her.

Barsad returned moments later, juggling quite a few things in his hands. Placing it all down on the coffetable beside her bowl of now lukewarm water and red tinged rags, he quickly flipped on the nearby lamp before taking a seat beside Bane on the couch he was occupying. Observing the wound with a critical, almost surgical eye, he spoke after a moment, his voice quiet and even.

"It appears as if all the muscle in your arm has kept the bullet from making a clean route out, my friend," He spoke before shaking his head. "I'm going to have to dig it out before I can dress it."

Bane glanced at him before nodding. "Fine. Do it."

Barsad nodded before picking up the utensils he would need and holding them out to Natalie still kneeling in-between Bane's legs. "Would you please go and boil these? They need to be disinfected before I can do anything with them." He asked her and a stricken look appeared on her face.

"Are you serious? You're _really _about to dig a bullet out of his fucking _arm_? Isn't that excruciating?"

A look of amusement flickered through Bane's eyes as Barsad pinned her with a firm look. "Before I joined Bane, I was an emergency field medic. I know what I'm doing." She knew by the look in his eyes when he gazed at her, that he had silently added 'pretty one' onto that sentence, but not daring to say it out loud. He knew it unwise to say such things in front of Bane. However, the gentle touch of Bane's fingers on her arm, was what caused her to reluctantly agree to do what he said.

"I won't feel a thing, little one, I promise." He told her and she gazed at him for a moment, wondering why she felt so nervous about the entire thing, before nodding. She carefully took all of the utensils from Barsad before padding into the kitchen. After finding a pot and filling it with hot water again, she placed it on the stove and turned on the eye. After placing the lid on and waiting for the water to begin a rolling boil, she picked up the utensils and placed them into the water. She was unsure of how long to boil them and figured five to ten minutes was her best bet. That, or until Barsad called for her to bring them back.

Which is what happened. After roughly five minutes of standing there watching water boil, she heard Barsad calling for her to bring them back. Quickly washing her hands, she took out a colander and after placing it in the sink, turned off the stove before removing the lid of the pot. Recoiling away from the steam, she carried the pot over to the colander and poured the water inside. There was the sharp rattling of metal on metal as the utensils fell into the colander and after placing the pot to the side, reached up to turn on the cold water tap. The hot metal hissed as it met the cold of the water and when she was sure they had sufficiently cooled, she picked up the colander and hefted it into the living room. Barsad gave her a nod of approval.

"Good job. Now, you can stay or leave, Bane's decision."

Her eyes fell onto Bane's and he leveled her with a look. "You wish to stay?"

She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, even though deep down she _really _wanted to. So, after a moment, she gave a nod. "Y-yeah. Yeah, I would like to stay." Bane gave a nod.

"Then she can stay." He spoke and Barsad nodded as she moved over to kneel in-between his legs again. She didn't know why she had chosen to take this close of a position to what Barsad would be doing. Deep down, it fascinated her. She had never seen someone dig out a bullet out of someone and then dress the wound afterwards. Bane watched her with an interested gleam to his eye, but said nothing further as Barsad began to work.

It was fascinating! Bane sat there, completely heedless of the excruciating pain that other, _normal _people would be feeling at that moment. Like always, he simply observed her throughout the process, and watched with a flicker of amusement as emotions of disgust and awe moved interchangeably across her pretty features depending on what was happening. And Barsad – Barsad moved with a quick, surgical precision that was beautiful in its own macabre way. When he finally withdrew the bullet from within his leader's arm, it gleamed black and red in the bright light shining over his shoulder onto the wound. With a 'ping', it landed on the glass surface of the coffetable and was soon joined by the bloody scissors and scalpel that he had been using. He then moved to pick up gauze and alcohol sitting there.

"Hard part's over." He spoke, and Bane gave a small nod as Barsad quickly dressed the wound while telling him what to do. He would have to redress it every other hour and to make sure to send for him at any sign of infection. It was imperative they not sow shut the wound, lest he become septic. Bane nodded throughout all of this and eventually sent him a look when his instructions began to irritate him.

"I know, my friend. You act like I've never sustained a bullet wound before!" He spoke, and Barsad gave a shrug. It was casual – nonchalant. It wasn't the type of motion that one would make unless they were completely comfortable around Bane. Quite obviously the friendship (indeed, if one could even _call_ it that) between these two men, ran deep.

"Force of habit, Bane. Forgive me."

Bane nodded before returning his eyes onto Natalie still kneeling there in front of him, watching what Barsad was doing with a rapt eye. He watched as the late afternoon rays streaming in through the windows behind them, fell onto her over his shoulder, casting her in a beautiful flaming halo. It shone off of the blue in her black hair and for a moment – one brief, all-encompassing moment – he felt the intense urge to bury his hands within those dark locks and feel the heft and weight of them in his hands. He wondered if it was heavy for her to wear. It looked heavy. And beautiful.

Didn't his mother have black hair, too? Like a lot of things, he couldn't remember.

Bane snapped himself back into reality when he heard Barsad's voice in his ear. This time, there was a clipped edge to it that had not been there previously. He found his interest peaked. "Miranda showed up today."

Immediately, Bane stiffened, his eyes adopting a gleam that Natalie couldn't rightly place for a moment. "She came _here_?"

Natalie nodded and immediately, his eyes snapped onto her. "She . . . she had a key." She spoke with a tremor to her voice, and Bane continued to gaze at her while Barsad spoke.

"You and I are the only ones who have keys to this apartment, Bane. The mere fact that she has one . . . unsettles me."

Bane gave a slow nod of agreement. "I know. And I agree," He spoke, his eyes not once leaving Natalie's. When he spoke, his words were directed towards her this time. They were soft and damn near soothing. "Did she hurt you, little one?"

Natalie shook her head. "No. She just delivered some things that she thought I needed."

"What things?"

Natalie looked over her shoulder at the alarmed tone he had suddenly taken, and nodded to the things still sitting on the coffetable. Quickly, his eyes scanned them before they glanced at Barsad. "You had no idea this happened?" He asked, and Barsad silently shook his head.

"Not until I came by to drop off that box for you and she told me."

"You inspected everything?"

Barsad shook his head. "No, I didn't get the chance. You walked in not mere minutes after I did. I do it in a minute."

Bane nodded again, this time slower, as if he was ruminating deeply on something. After a moment, he glanced at his friend and something unspoken seemed to pass between them, for Barsad nodded. "What time?"

"Eight every morning, I want you here with her. You're the only one I can trust, my friend." He told him and Barsad nodded as Natalie's eyes widened. What the . . . did she just get herself a _bodyguard_?


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you everyone who reviewed - they were awesome! Now please, keep it up! :)**

**Before anyone says anything, I _know_ Natalie has been having more interactions with Barsad with Bane, and there is a reason for that. Next chapter _is _going to be an exclusive Bane and Natalie chapter (maybe even have some Blake in it, too, I don't know yet), so _yes, _there is a method to my madness. And anyone whose read any of my other stories know that I am not lying when I say that. It might be a roundabout, convoluted method, but a method, nonetheless. I'm also sorry if I write him a little OOC, but thankfully, we have so few interactions with Barsad in the movie, that I feel like that gives me a little bit more wiggle-room to play around in.**

**CLTex: So excited your excited! All answers will be given in due time, so please, continue reading :)**

**UndeadMama: Your review was awesome! Just sayin'! And I know it looks like I might be having more of a love 'rectangle' going on with this chapter, but I promise that this _is _an exclusive BanexNataliexBlake fic. And if I'm being honest, _I _don't even know how this thing is gonna end, so . . . yeah, it's gonna be a surprise to all of us!**

****AuRevoirMonCauchemar: Thanks so much! And I'll try, I promise! :)****

* * *

_A Week Later . . ._

"Here, read this one. Hope you like poetry."

Barsad's brows furrowed in slight interest as he took the book Natalie was holding out to him. They had been sitting on the couches in the living room that one sunny morning about a week after Bane walking in sporting that bullet wound, casually discussing their favorite works of literature over coffee and that morning's _Price Is Right _episode (which Barsad did not even bother to hide his dislike for and which Natalie confessed to in reply of having a guilty pleasure of. This confession surprisingly caused him to bite his tongue and bear it every episode afterwards), when he mentioned that he had nothing else new to read. That was when she rose to her feet and moved over to one of the bookcases across the room from them. Quickly finding what she wanted among the jam-packed shelves, she moved back over to him and held it out to him. He had taken it from her initially because he was curious what she had found, but as he gazed down at the cover, he found himself feeling a tad dubious.

"'The Universe and Her' by Christopher Poindexter," He gave a slow nod as he flipped it open to a random page and immediately read one of the poems out loud: "When you kiss me, lights go off on the edge of the world. When you kiss me, children rise from their beds and begin their day in perfect innocence. When you kiss me, the clouds shift and comfort the hurting and they never seem to hurt again. When you kiss me, all our heroes are summoned from the dead and come to live inside our chests. When you kiss me, I am as good as I will ever get, as pure as you will ever know me, as perfect as your eyes will allow me. So hear when I say, darling, when you kiss me, I become a better man'," He arched a brow and turned his eyes up to her. "Are you kidding me?"

Natalie gave him a small smile. Barsad was such an enigma to her and she found that she loved it. In fact, everyone who surrounded Bane – even the man himself – was an enigma. Bane's accent was in itself hard to place, but nothing like Barsad's. Where one day it would hold a distinctive Middle Eastern edge to it, the next it could be distinctly _Eastern _European (which it was a lot, she noticed) or even would hold a slight British tone to it like it did now. Many times, she contemplated asking him where he was from – what accent was _truly _his to claim - but always grew afraid and would back out at the last minute. She didn't know why, though. Whereas Bane could be irritable and snappish at the slightest provocation to kind and gentle the next minute, Barsad always made a point of being a little more level with her from day-to-day. It sounded so wrong, but the mysterious man was quickly turning out to be her pillar of stability in this otherwise hectic, stressful life she was forging for herself.

"Everybody needs love in their life Barsad. Even if it comes from words in a book." She told him and a look of surprise flickered across his face then as he looked up at her.

"Quite the philosophical words, pretty one." He spoke, and she gave a laugh as she returned to her seat on the couch. And then there was that nickname - 'pretty one'. Bane often called her 'little one' and she could easily understand why. Compared to him and his rather mountainous appearance, she _was_ little. But Barsad . . . his nickname for her was as mysterious as his accent.

And those words rolling from his lips in any one of those three random accents of his, was rather charming, too, she had to admit.

She found herself wondering, for a split second, if he really thought her pretty, but cast the thought from her mind. She shouldn't think like that. She shouldn't think of Barsad as a friend – the man who had helped kidnap her and before that, invade her privacy by invading her home. She shouldn't be growing warmer to Bane, despite his irritations and his snaps – feeling safer in his presence now that she was learning how to navigate the rapids of his temper. She shouldn't rely on the both of them like she was. She shouldn't be doing a lot of things that regardless, she found herself doing. She wondered if it was Stockholm syndrome already starting to set in, and the thought frightened her. She didn't want to be known as a Pattie Hearst when all this was over and done with.

_If _it would eventually be done with, that is.

They sat there in silence for a moment, Barsad flipping through the book and occasionally stopping, where his eyes would quickly scan the poem on the page, while Natalie sat on her couch, slowly feeling herself slipping into memories of her and Blake. Them smiling and laughing and walking down the streets of Gotham holding hands while juggling bags of food or cones of ice cream during the summer or returning home from a date or an outing with friends. Movies that would play on their TV while they sat and lay there on the couch in each other's arms – the love they would make later that night under the covers of their bed, where they could selfishly afford to think that it was just the both of them left in the world who truly mattered. She missed those selfish little moments between them. She thought she missed _them_, more than she missed him.

"You're crying . . ."

Natalie jumped and her eyes grew wide as they flew onto Barsad's. He had been watching her over the opened book in his hands, brows furrowed slightly in an emotion she could not decipher, as she sat there thinking. She slowly shook her head.

"I . . . I was not . . ."

Barsad nodded. "Yes, you were. I saw a tear go down your cheek. What were you thinking of?"

Natalie sat there for a moment, debating on sharing such things with him, before heaving a breath. "I . . . I miss Blake."

"The man you were living with?" Natalie nodded.

"Yes. I miss him. I miss my grandmother, my brother . . . I miss my entire life."

Barsad nodded, slowly, almost in understanding. "Blake is searching for you, as I have no doubt he is. Your brother is fine and so is your grandmother."

He said such things with such finality, that Natalie couldn't help but turn an inquiring gaze onto him. Her eyebrows furrowed gently in interest. "How do you know that?" Barsad gave a nonchalant shrug.

"You think Bane took you without first learning everything about you? He knows your grandmother is in a nursing home outside the city, just like he knows your brother is an inmate in Blackgate. As such, he also keeps tabs on them. Both of them are doing just fine, you have my word."

"Your word?" Natalie breathed as she got to her feet. Eyes wide, she shook her head. "When were either of you going to tell me this? Was I just supposed to _suffer _in ignorance? Or were you waiting to tell me when you needed something from me and needed something to hold over my head in case I didn't _do _that something?" Barsad opened his mouth to speak but she closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, don't answer that. Enjoy the book, I need to be alone."

She left him then, and marched to the bedroom, where she closed the doors behind her. She didn't lock the doors, knowing that, unlike Bane, Barsad would respect her need for privacy. She sat down on the bed, her arms crossed in front of her chest, where she shook her head. How could she have been so blind? Of _course _she couldn't trust them and Barsad had just opened her eyes as to why. If they had been lying about knowing about whether everyone she ever loved in her live was safe, then what else were they lying about?

Something else suddenly occurred to her, and Natalie's eyes widened in shock and anger. Arms falling back to her sides, she jumped to her feet and marched to the double doors, where she threw them open. Barsad didn't jump, but did immediately turn his eyes up to hers from the still opened book in his hands. They were wide with surprise at this sudden outburst of her anger. For a moment, she felt her breath catch in her throat over how _natural _the scene before her, appeared. Barsad sitting relaxed on one of the couches, book open in his hands while she marched out of the bedroom in a huff . . . Hell, even the _lighting _was perfect! It all seemed like a scene taken directly out of a movie – out of the real, normal life of an ordinary couple.

She shook the thoughts from her head. No . . . no, she needed to get rid of those - what was _wrong _with her?

"Where's Kai?"

Barsad continued to sit there for a moment, an expression of confusion registering on his face. He shook his head. "I don't -"

Natalie silently apologized to her best friend in her mind for _ever _daring to forget about her after what she had allowed to happen. She then moved to stand behind the couch on his left, her arms moving to cross in front of her chest again. "You know damn good and well what I am talking about, so don't play dumb! _Kai_ – the woman who came in with me! The one with brown hair, blue eyes, glasses – looks a little like Lizzy Caplan?"

Barsad shook his head in slight bewilderment. "I don't . . . I don't know who Lizzy Caplan is -"

"That's not the point!" Natalie screeched at him, interrupting him mid-sentence, and Barsad wisely stayed silent as she continued to rant: "The point _is_: she came in with me, I was forced to choose between her that Hell Bitch and when I did, _you _wrangled me off to the bedroom while her and Marcia were . . ." She trailed off and swallowed hard. "They were carried off to – I presume – be gang raped."

He nodded and after a moment, a look of dawning recognition appeared on his face. "Oh _her_!"

A look of disgust appeared on Natalie's face then. "Yes, _her_!"

Barsad gave a nonchalant shrug. "She's fine," An expressionless look appeared on his face then, although there was something that remained in his eyes that she couldn't rightly decipher. "Do you wish to see her?"

The question immediately took Natalie aback. She even recoiled slightly at the force of his words hitting her. She could see her? She didn't think she could – didn't think Bane would allow it after what had happened between them. She asked him if she really could - if that was possible - and he gave another shrug that was accompanied by a nod. "Well, of course you can. Your Bane's queen – she's your lady. You have every right in the world to see her. In fact, Bane confided to me that he was surprised you hadn't asked to see her sooner."

Natalie stood there in shock for a moment, registering what he was telling her, before giving a frantic nod. Immediately forgetting her anger or _what _she had been angry about, for that matter, she ran and after jumping over the back of the couch that separated them, moved quickly over to him. Landing on the open space beside him, she barely registered the look of amusement echoing in his eyes as she spoke, her voice frantic with excitement: "Yes, please! Go get her and bring her here right now, Barsad – I _want _to see her!" Laughing, he nodded and got to his feet, where he gave a deep, mock bow.

"Yes, of _course_, my queen! Right at _once_, my queen!" She knew he was teasing and she couldn't help but grin and laugh in response. It was the first laugh she had gave since coming here and shook her head as she continued to grin. She was finally going to see one friendly face since she arrived – a person that she loved and trusted! She never before remembered feeling this excited since her childhood's Christmas mornings!

"Oh, thank you! Oh, Barsad, I could _kiss_ you right now!"

The words fell from her giddy lips before she could even register she had said them, let alone recall them back. She only realized she said something wrong when a stricken look appeared on his face. It was at that look that she realized she must have said something, and only adopted her horrified expression when she realized what she had said. Shaking her head, she sat up on her knees and held out a hand to him.

"Oh God – I didn't mean it, Barsad, I was just . . . I was just so _excited_, I didn't -"

"Something tells me Bane wouldn't exactly like to hear of us kissing, pretty one . . . regardless of who kissed who first."

His words, which interrupted her mid-sputtered sentence, were accompanied by an expressionless face. She knelt there in silence for a moment, not knowing what to say. His expression might have been blank, but his voice suggested at fleeting points that she barely caught, that he thought Bane could shove his dislike of them sharing a kiss, up where the sun didn't shine.

The thought confused her, frightened her and also . . . exhilarated her to a degree that made her experience all those emotions all over again. It was mainly fear, though, that kept her thoughts in check. He was right: Bane would _not _like the idea, even in jest. That was more than enough for her to willingly drop the thought.

A path of hot blush speared up her neck and bloomed across her cheeks, and she hurriedly averted her gaze away from him and onto the rugged floor underneath them. "I, uh . . . you should go get Kai now."

"_Natalie_ . . .!"

It was the first time he spoke her name and it caused a shudder to fly up her spine, but she passed it by. "_Go_, Barsad."

He stayed there for a moment before pursing his lips and nodded. Turning, he moved to the door and she heard the key in the lock and turning, before it opened and he stepped out. Locking the door behind him, she imagined he was on the elevator as she slowly sank down onto her ass instead of remaining on her knees. She turned her attention onto the TV in front of her but it did shit in distracting her. That entire encounter between her and Barsad had managed to wheedle its way into her mind and refused to leave her alone. She didn't know what it meant – she didn't even realize _why _she had said what she said. She knew she liked Barsad – she considered him a friend – but that was only because he was the only one who treated her even remotely like a human being. Bane treated her like a queen – someone to be revered, someone to be . . . _worshiped_, almost. His men – the men she _did _see, that was – treated her somewhere along the same lines. Barsad . . . Barsad was the only one who sat down beside her in the morning and kept her company as she woke up and blinked the sleep from her eyes. He bit his tongue and sat through every _Price is Right _episode she subjected him to, even though he hated it. He talked to her like they were equals – like they were both humans having a casual conversation. All of it didn't mean anything, of course, she knew that. She was Bane's and the bull man reminded her of that fact every second of every day. And no matter how friendly her and Barsad were with each other, there was still a line of friendliness that not even Barsad dared to cross. That was the first time he had teased her and she had laughed, since she arrived there.

She was Bane's. Barsad knew it, his men knew it . . . even _she_ knew it. She might not see him all that much, but she was still Bane's and there was nothing she could do about it.

Around ten minutes later, the elevator 'dinged' and she heard the key in the lock. Heart pounding in her chest, she jumped to her feet when the door opened. It closed, locked, and footsteps were heard coming into the apartment. She swallowed hard and the look of relief that speared through her heart when she saw Kai enter the living room with Barsad in tow, almost crippled her. Tears appeared in her eyes and they didn't abate, even when Kai turned her eyes onto her. A look of relief and shock appeared in the woman's eyes before filling with tears, as well.

"Nat?"

"Oh God – _Kai_!"

The two friends ran into each other's arms in a fierce, tight embrace. Natalie felt her friend shake in her arms and knew she was crying. Hell, she was on the verge of crying herself!

Her eyes locked with Barsad's and he gave her a small smile. "You want to be alone, pretty one?" He asked, and she returned his smile as they broke apart. Kai wiped at her tears as they took seats beside each other on the couch.

"But I'm not _supposed_ to be alone, remember?" She asked, a slightly teasing tone to her voice, and Barsad chuckled as he glanced at the front door.

"If I'm standing at the front door, I doubt anyone will be able to get in. You'll be fine." He returned his eyes onto hers then, waiting for her answer, and after a moment, she nodded.

"Yes, please," He nodded and moved to go, but her calling his name caused him to stop and turn back around to face her. She opened her mouth to speak but then closed it. An apologetic look appeared on her face then. "I'm sorry, Barsad, I know you're not my maid, but can you please get us two cups of coffee before you go? Kai looks like she needs it and you . . ." She gave an uneasy laugh, almost as if she was afraid of saying what she was going to say next. "I like how you make your coffee."

A soft look flickered across his eyes before it was lost and it warmed her heart in an unexpected and nerve-wracking way. He nodded as a small smile appeared on his face. "Of course, Nat."

It had been the first time he used her nickname and the sound of it coming from him temporarily floored her. She was brought out of her thoughts by Kai's incredulous voice. "Did he just use your nickname?"

Natalie swallowed before giving a tight smile and a nod. "A-Apparently," She spoke before biting down on her lower lip and taking her friend's hands in hers. "How are you? I'm so sorry for not being able to get to you sooner, but Bane, he's -"

"Probably making your life hell, I know." Kai interrupted her, somewhat scornfully, and Natalie gave a jerky nod. It wasn't _hell_, per say . . . he didn't mistreat her or beat her or anything, but regardless, he still made it where she prayed for her old life back every single morning when she woke up and every single night when she went to bed.

"It's . . . been difficult. _Bane_, is difficult. But I've been learning how to navigate him and things are getting better." She told her, and Kai gave a tight smile.

"I can tell. Care to tell me why you're getting all chummy with his second?"

Natalie glanced at the kitchen, where the sounds of Barsad getting their coffee, could be heard. After a moment, she shook her head and rolled her eyes. "We're not . . . getting _chummy_, Kai."

_Liar_ . . .

"Bane assigned him as my bodyguard when this . . . _crazy_ woman found her way in here. Long story, I'll have to tell you later. He's . . ." She gave a shrug. "He's stoic and he's silent most of the time – keeps to himself and his thoughts, but . . ." She trailed off and thought for a moment before speaking. "But he's kind and he's gentle and he's stable from day to day, which is what I need. I don't have to worry about what Barsad – what _mood_ – I'm going to get every day like I do with Bane. His stability is comforting."

Barsad had returned with their coffee by then and brought them to them. Natalie shot him a smile and a thank you while Kai did nothing of the sort. She simply took her coffee with a silent nod before taking a sip, cautious of its heat. "I'll be outside, pretty one. Call for me when she's ready to leave." Natalie smiled and nodded. He returned her smile before turning and moving towards the door. Kai waited until the door closed behind him before speaking.

"You certainly speak highly of the man who's only supposed to be your bodyguard, Nat. And 'pretty one'? What's with that nickname?" She asked with a raised brow and Natalie took a sip of her coffee before giving a shrug. Sweet but which still retained that strong coffee taste . . . it was how Barsad drank his and after making it for her one morning, she was hooked. Thanks to him, she was now an official coffee drinker.

"I don't know. I've been meaning to ask him, along with . . . _other_ things, but . . ." She gave another shrug. "I don't know, I just haven't gotten around to it, I suppose."

Kai gave a slow nod. "Well, quite obviously, he thinks you're pretty if he's calling you that. That or he has one sick sense of humor."

"You think?" Natalie asked, eyebrows furrowing in interest, and Kai gave a slightly bitter laugh and a nod.

"Oh yeah. It's pretty obvious, actually," Natalie was going to ask her what she meant by that, when Kai changed the subject. "So . . . I don't imagine you've heard from Blake?" Natalie's face fell then as she was reminded of Blake, and a spear of hurt and love speared through her heart so strong that it churned her stomach and made her head spin.

"I haven't. Of course I haven't! I mean . . . Bane doesn't even let me watch the news unless he's with me, so I don't even know where the police are with the investigation."

"If it's still even going on." Kai muttered in another bitter tone, and Natalie shot her a reprimanding look.

"Of course it's still ongoing, Kai! Blake would _never _give up on finding me!" She told her, and Kai gave a shrug.

"Unless, of course, he _has_, then we're just fucked -"

"Kai!"

"What? It's true and you know it, Nat!" Kai shot back, her eyes flashing underneath the lenses of her glasses. "Blake _could _have given up on you – that _is _a possibility! And if he has, then you need to get used to it! You need to get used to the fact that this just _might _become your new life."

Natalie gave a slow shake of her head. "What happened to you, Kai?" She asked in damn near wonderment, and Kai gave a bark of laughter, almost as if Natalie was a fool for asking such a question.

"Oh well let's see: I was kidnapped, gang-raped, beaten, and then watched that woman we came in with, die by a gunshot to the head, because you picked me over her. Then I was thrown into this windowless jail cell where I've been languishing away until today, when you sent Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding to fetch me and bring me up here. In other words: constant _shit_!" She sent her a look before shaking her head. "I don't expect you to understand. Unless Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding raped you too after carrying you into that room, then I doubt you'll understand," She gave a laugh and shook her head. "Unless he didn't and the sex between you two came later, which would explain your chumminess with each other. In that case, I _really -_"

"Kai, stop it." Natalie interrupted her, her voice and eyes hard. The coffee was sitting forgotten in her hands and when Kai turned her eyes up onto hers, they immediately widened, almost as if she just realized what she said. She shook her head.

"Nat, I'm . . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things! It's just -"

"It's been hard. I know. It's been hard for me, too. And I won't pretend that I've suffered more than you have, because I haven't. That doesn't mean, though, that I don't want to go home. I do. I want more than anything to be back at home with Blake, but I'm not and I can't. I've been trying to make the most of my situation since arriving here, and . . ." She trailed off for a moment before speaking again. "Barsad did not rape me when he drug me into the bedroom. He didn't rape me, I didn't sleep with him - I'm _not_ \- sleeping with him, we just . . . we talked until they drug you two out of the room, and then he left. Nothing happened, Kai, and nothing _is _happening. I'm sorry, but it's the truth."

Kai nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, Nat, I couldn't . . . I was just so _angry_ for a moment that I couldn't . . ." She trailed off and heaved a sigh. "I said those things out of anger, even though I knew them not to be true. Forgive me?" Natalie nodded.

"Always. I'll talk to Bane – try to get you a new room." Kai gave her a thankful look.

"Thanks, hun. It'd . . . It'd be appreciated." They shared a smile and finished their now quickly cooling coffee. When they were done and the empty cups were on the coffetable, they gave each other another hug.

"It was good to see you. To know that you're okay." Natalie spoke, and Kai nodded in agreement.

"I know. Promise you'll talk to him for me?" Natalie nodded as they broke apart.

"Of course; I'll do that tonight. You can count on me, sweetie." Kai continued to smile as Natalie called for Barsad. The door opened and he entered with another man in tow. "Kai's ready to leave." Barsad nodded.

"Abal will take her back. Don't worry – I've given him express orders to not touch you." He told her and she gave him a small smile of thanks as she got to her feet. Shooting Natalie a smile over her shoulder, the two friends said their goodbyes before she left. Barsad followed them and locked the door behind them before returning to the living room. He stood there, looking uncertain on whether or not he wanted to take Kai's place beside her on the couch. Now that Kai was gone, the awkwardness was back.

"Good reunion?" He asked, when the silence between them started to choke even him, and she nodded.

"Yes. She's changed, but . . . we both have," He nodded and they fell into silence for a moment before she broke it. "Look, Barsad, about earlier when I said I could kiss you -"

He shook his head, interrupting her. "Pretty one, don't. I understand."

"You do?" He nodded.

"Words spoken in the heat of the moment, are best cast aside." She gave him a thankful smile and he returned it before he finally moved to take a seat beside her. He picked up the remote and started channel surfing for something good. Natalie sat there awkwardly for a moment before moving back up to her knees. Leaning over, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder before pressing an equally as gentle kiss to his cheek. Barsad froze and when she pulled away, she found he was in the process of pinning her with a wide-eyed look. She sent him a thankful smile.

"Thank you, Barsad. You didn't have to do any of what you did for me this morning, but you did anyway. So, again, thank you."

He slowly nodded and they fell silent. Natalie leaned back against the arm of the couch she had been reclining against moments ago as Barsad continued channel surfing. After a moment, he found something and after plopping the remote between them, leaned back against the couch, his head moving to prop itself on his hand. A moment longer, his voice broke through the silence.

"Words spoken in the heat of the moment, are best cast aside," He repeated, his voice firmer than it had been previously, and Natalie furrowed her brows in confusion and turned to gaze at him. He kept his eyes pinned to the screen in front of them and when he continued, his voice had quietened considerably. "No matter how much I wish them to be true."


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm really not happy with this chapter. There's just something about it that I don't like. Maybe I'm still not content with how Bane and Natalie interact with each other, even though I am still trying my damndest to get them sorted out together. Maybe I'll come back in when I have more free time and when I'm more certain of Nane's (Batalie?) relationship (Opposed to Nlake and Narsad), but I'm not sure. I always say I'll do that but then end up not :/**

**Thank you all who reviewed! I would have responded to you all individually and I DID but then my computer acted up when I tried saving this in Edit Document the first time and I lost everything and . . . UGH! Now I can't track down your reviews in my hotmail inbox and . . . well, I'm sorry guys. Just wanted to thank you all for your lovely reviews - they were amazing!**

** Love you all bunches!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

Sitting in Bane's company, was infinitely more nerve-wracking than sitting in Barsad's. Barsad was easy – he was stable. He wasn't likely to snap at you or your neck at any given moment. Bane, on the other hand . . . he was hulking and stoic and even though he largely remained silent, she got the feeling that he noticed everything and could _comment _on everything if he wanted to. He claimed his own couch, knowing that she was still largely uncomfortable with his presence compared to how her and Barsad now comfortably shared one every morning.

She constantly found herself comparing the two men, even though they were like night and day to the other. How they had managed to become friends despite their obvious differences, were beyond her.

"I need to talk to you."

His eyes flickered onto hers. "Then talk." She nodded, slowly as she moved to tuck her feet up underneath and to cross her arms across her chest.

"I met with Kai this morning."

He nodded, his eyes still on the TV. The sight made the knot of uneasiness in her stomach, disappear somewhat. At least he was like every man in that regard – would rather sit and watch TV than listen to what his significant other had to say to him.

Significant other. The term made her give an inwardly bitter laugh. It seemed so apt for them. They weren't dating - they weren't _together _by any sense of the word. But yet, at that moment in each other's lives, they _were _each other's significant other.

"Well, she told me . . . of her living conditions."

Those words finally seemed to earn her his full and undivided attention. She licked her lips and tried to continue on with what she had rehearsed but only managed to get out: "I don't approve." instead. Through his eyes, she could see he was smirking or smiling – she couldn't tell quite yet.

"Oh?"

She nodded. "She described it as a 'cell'. Want to explain that?"

Bane gave a chuckle, as if he was amused she would dare to try and hold him accountable for anything. "Your loyalty towards her is admirable, little one. But it is also misplaced."

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

Bane glanced at her, brow arched. "It's as it sounds. Do you know what she's been saying about you since being placed in that cell?"

Natalie gave a sharp laugh and a careless shrug, although, deep down, she couldn't help but feel uneasy at his words. "She's been put through hell since we got here, and I haven't seen her since this morning because I didn't think I _could _see her. I won't take it personally. They were probably spoken out of anger and hurt," He nodded again, as if he knew she would say such a thing. She continued on: "If you refuse to put her in a more comfortable room, though, then at least consider letting her go. What has she done to you?"

"Absolutely nothing. But letting her go would be stupidity at its finest, little one. Who's to say she wouldn't go running to your precious little Blake as soon as she was outside these doors?" He turned his gaze onto her and shook his head. "I will have her moved to more comfortable accommodations, but letting her go is out of the question."

Natalie nodded, her jaw hardening in anger. She turned an angry gaze onto the TV to avoid looking at him any longer, and she could only imagine the amusement shining in his eyes. "You _could _blindfold her and drop her off somewhere _other _than outside these front doors. Wouldn't that be a viable plan of action?" She told him, and Bane gave a chuckle as he returned his eyes onto the TV.

"She's staying, little one."

"I'm _not _your little one!"

Bane gave another chuckle – this one sharper, more dangerous. "It intrigues me on how you refuse to allow me to call you 'little one', yet you freely allow Barsad to refer to you as 'pretty one'. Is vanity truly your sin, little one, or is there something I'm missing?" His words caused her eyes to widen as they shot onto him, and her mouth to fall open in shock. She wordlessly shook her head and he took this moment of temporary speechlessness to turn his eyes onto hers again. They were hard and no longer filled with amusement. "She stays or one of my men puts a bullet through her head – _that's _your choice, little one. She's too big a risk to let go."

A roil of vibrant hatred for this man - dagger sharp and fiery red - appeared in her gut then, and she averted her eyes away from him as she felt the sharp burn of angry, frustrated tears brim in her eyes. She hated him. She hated him with every fiber of her being, and she wished he would die. Whatever came afterwards, she would deal with, but _right now_ . . . oh _Lord _above, she wished only the worst for him!

"Maybe it's because Barsad has a heart," She eventually spoke, her voice as hard as his had been. His gaze was one of confusion as he turned it on her and fearlessly, she met it this time. He felt a wave of respect rise inside him at this look. Perhaps his little one was stronger than he had taken her for. "You asked why I allow Barsad's nickname while I refuse to acknowledge yours. Maybe it's because I look at him and I know he has a heart. I know that he likes me for me and not because having me around him is like he possesses some . . . fucking _trophy_!"

His eyebrows remained furrowed in confusion. "Is that what you think you are to me? A trophy? Something to be lost and gained in equal measure?"

She gave a laugh. "What else am I? Why else would I _be_ here, Bane?"

Bane didn't deign to answer her, and try as she might, she could not read him. It was like he had completely closed himself off to her as he descended back into his own deep, impenetrable thoughts. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and got to her feet. She then moved around her couch and towards the kitchen. "You want anything while I'm up?"

"No."

She nodded at his gruff words, knowing he would say that. She had been staying with him for weeks now and she had _yet _to see him do anything that did not actively require The Mask (as she was now prone to calling it). She had never seen him eat, drink . . . for all intents and purposes, he appeared almost like this immortal, omnipotent mythological figure she just happened to be sharing an apartment with.

And who was so finicky neat and organized, he would have put Mr. Clean himself to shame.

Entering the kitchen, she reached into the fridge and after withdrawing the pitcher of amber colored tea held within, filled herself a glass. Moving back into the living room, she found Bane with a particularly rapt gaze on the TV in front of him. Taking a sip, she turned her attention onto the screen and immediately, her face went slack. Vaguely, she realized her glass had slipped from her hand and had crashed to a million splinters on the hardwood floor.

"Blake . . ."

The word fell from her mouth in a surprised gasp and blindly, she felt herself moving towards the TV. Standing in front of one of the couches, she felt tears come to her eyes as she gazed upon the face of the man she loved, coming at her through the HD screen of the TV. He looked _horrible_ – gaunt, black-bagged eyes . . . he looked like he wasn't getting a wink of sleep at night and as horrible as she felt about it, she also couldn't help but feel . . . _relieved_? Kai's words about him possibly giving up on her, had gotten to her no matter how much she wanted to deny that they had not. Now, at the sight of him, she knew he hadn't. She knew the only reason he looked as bad as he did, was because he was too busy fighting to find her. He hadn't given up on her and the knowledge brought forth the most violent tsunami of love for him that she had ever felt before.

He hadn't given up on her.

_Blake_ would never give up on her.

"You're bleeding . . ."

"Why is Blake on the news?"

"Little one, you're _bleeding_ . . .!"

"_Bane_! Why is Blake on the TV?"

Bane glared at her for a moment in the wake of her snapped words, before heaving a sigh and getting to his feet. He marched around the couch to her and immediately, her eyes snapped onto him. She opened her mouth to restate her question but instead, her heart plummeted when he bent down and lifted her up into his arms. "Bane, what are you -?"

"You are bleeding rather profusely from your foot, little one. I assume from when you stepped across that broken glass on your foolish way to the TV," He glanced behind him at the bloody footprints she had left on her trek to the couch and let out an irritated grumble as he continued to carry her to the bathroom beyond the double doors of her bedroom. "I'll clean it all up when I'm done with you."

She was starting to feel a dull throb in her arch of her foot now – a dull, cutting throb. Looking downwards, she could see the blood as it steadily trickled down from her foot and her heart began its own painful throb as she continued to lay in his arms. "Is it . . . is it bad?" She found herself asking, her voice coming out more as a squeak than her normal tone, and Bane released a grunt.

"I've seen worse."

"Well, that's comforting." She muttered, rather bitterly, and he heaved another irritated sigh.

"It's not pretty. If it needs stitches, we'll have to call in Barsad," He glanced at her before grumbling: "It's probably going to need stitches." She nodded while trying to swallow past the lump now growing in her throat. She had never gotten stitches before. She had broken her leg when she was younger but never, in her entire life, had she done anything that required getting stitches. She had, however, heard from various friends who had gotten them, that the anesthetic shot beforehand, was painful. As she reflected on those memories then, she had to admit . . . the thought made her nervous.

After entering the bathroom, he placed her down on the marble countertop before stepping away and picking up her foot. Observing it with a meticulous eye, she swallowed hard again before he heaved his third sigh and turned around. Moving back into the bedroom, he gave a bark of someone's name. That someone entered and he barked at him to bring in Barsad, before moving back over to her. He seemed more on edge now – a little more irritated, almost as if he loathed Barsad being around him. And once she thought about it – once she remembered how he had reacted upon bringing up the acceptance of their retrospective nicknames for her, she could understand why.

Bane's second appeared moments later and paused to speak with Bane standing in the bedroom. His eyes flickered onto her and they stayed for a moment before he nodded and crossed the space between them. He walked with a tense posture the entire time and didn't smile at her as he approached her. In fact, his grip was gentle but mechanical as he picked up her foot and observed it. He was anxious being in Bane's presence, that much was certain. Or was he anxious being in _both _of their presences at the same time? That seemed far more likely.

"You have . . . Christ, you have a pretty decent sized shard of glass in your foot!" He spoke, the both of them extremely conscious of Bane hovering over them like a looming statue. He shook his head. "It's gonna need stitches and getting it out is gonna . . ." He sighed. "It's going to be painful." He glanced up at her and watched as she swallowed hard.

"Can I get, like, a . . . Tylenol or something?" She asked, and Barsad exhaled a breath.

"Doubt it's gonna do any good." He muttered and she nodded, her heart giving a pang at the slightly caustic tone of his voice, even though she fully understood just _why_ he had that tone. She felt better now that he was here, but still, the looming presence of Bane behind him, arms crossed across that barrel chest of his, kept them from completely becoming as relaxed in each other's company as they normally would.

"Why was Blake on TV?" She asked Bane, trying to distract herself, as Barsad picked up her foot and firmly grasped the piece of glass in-between his thumb and forefinger. Bane's eyes fell onto her and he gazed at her for a moment before speaking.

"Commissioner Gordon is in the hospital, little one. I assume that is why."

"Why? What happened to him – OW! _Fuck_! Mind giving me a little warning before you do that again?"

Her sharp words curbed off when Barsad gave a swift yank downwards, withdrawing the piece of glass from her in one smooth but burning motion. She sent a glare his way but he returned it with a warning look of his own. Abruptly, her glare disappeared. Was that motion meant to shut her up?

Jesus, he could have just sent her a look, instead!

Bane chuckled and turned his gaze down to the white tiled floor beneath them. "Cast your thoughts aside and out of your head, little one. Up here, what is happening below, shouldn't concern you. Let us be concerned with them." He was referring to him and Barsad, who pointedly avoided her gaze as he readied the needle and thread he brought with him. She swallowed hard again.

"Sure I can't have a Tylenol?" She asked, and Barsad sent her another glare.

"It _really _won't do anything."

She sent him a sarcastic look. "Ever heard of the placebo effect?"

He returned her look. "Ever heard of just rubbing dirt in it and moving on?" Bane's chuckling interrupted them and Barsad immediately returned his eyes onto her foot at the look of surprise that appeared on Natalie's face at his words. "I'll try to be quick." He eventually muttered, an apologetic tone to his voice, and Natalie gave a slow nod. Bracing herself on the countertop, she flinched and cried out when she felt the first prick and drawing of the needle and thread through the tender flesh of her foot. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, she sat there and bore through the pain, all the while intensely aware of Bane's eyes on her face - studying her reactions, she felt. For a man who wore a back brace and a mask to continuously breathe in analgesic, she wondered what he thought at her flinching and crying out at her foot being stitched up.

When he was done, he snipped the thread and tied a knot before getting to his feet. Inclining his head to the both of them, he then turned and moved out of the room without a word to either of them. Natalie's brows furrowed in slight confusion and alarm, but threw it from her mind when Bane bent down and lifted up her foot. Eyes critically running over every inch of it, she felt a sudden wave of defensiveness wash over her.

"He did a good job." She spoke, her tone brooking no argument, and Bane gave a hum of agreement.

"Of course he did. If he didn't, he wouldn't be my medic, now would he?" He released her foot then and got to his feet in front of her. Natalie gave a hard swallow as she gazed up at him. Christ, even when she sat on a countertop that damn near came up to his hips, he was _still _taller than her. "You won't be able to walk for a while. Or put pressure on it, at least. Knowing you, though, you can hop on one foot from room to room."

She didn't know if his words were meant to be teasing, but that's what she took them as. "Are you teasing me?" She asked, a look of surprise flickering across her face upon her words. He didn't answer her, though. Instead, he picked her up in his arms again and turned around.

"Where do you want me to put you?"

"Living room, I suppose." She told him and he nodded as they moved from the bathroom, through the master bedroom, and into the living room. The broken glass and the bloody footprints had been cleaned away and she found herself wondering if that was Barsad's doing before he left.

Upon entering the living room, Bane deposited her on one couch before moving around and taking a seat on it beside her. Immediately, she tensed and moved as far back against the arm of the couch as she possibly could. He noticed and his brow furrowed gently in an emotion she couldn't rightly place. "You really don't trust me?"

His words came and she thought for a moment before answering. "It's not that I don't trust you, I don't . . . you _intimidate _me."

A look of amusement speared through his eyes then. "You fear me?"

She shook her head. "No. You _intimidate _me. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

The two words were spoken on a voice filled to the brim with amusement and for some reason, the words angered her. "Yes. There is. And for that matter, how _dare _you presume to tell me how I feel?"

Bane chuckled and shook his head. "Little one, I know you better than even _you_ do!"

The words floored her, and she was unable to keep the shock she was feeling, from materializing on her face. She continued to sit there for a moment before hefting herself to her feet, careful to keep her stitched one elevated off of the floor. She stood there and teetered uncertainly for a moment before quickly gaining her balance. Bane continued to sit there beside her, a look of amusement still echoing on his masked face.

"Where are you going?" She sent him a defiant look, one that she knew had him smiling.

"Hopping into the bedroom, where else? Or for that matter, anywhere away from _you_!"

He watched as she hopped carefully around the couches and towards the double doors of the bedroom, leaning on the walls and the furniture as she moved. When she was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, both hands on opposite doors and taking the time to balance herself further, Bane finally spoke.

"You do realize that you will not be able to avoid me forever?"

Natalie hopped into the bedroom before turning around to face him. One delicately groomed eyebrow rose in challenge. "Just watch me."


	10. Chapter 10

**Overall, I really like this chapter, the only problem is, that I'm a little unsure if I should have put this here or should have included it at a later spot. If I change my mind, I will definitely let you guys know ahead of time so we can avoid confusion. This is also the chapter where that whole, convoluted thinking of mine when it comes to Barsad, Natalie and Bane comes full circle. Hoping you guys start to piece it together in your head now :)**

**Ladyabsinthe91 and HopeAndHeartache: Well here's your next chapter. Hope you like :)**

**AuRevoirMonCauchemar: Thanks, I rather liked that line too. Thought I outdid myself. And, uh . . . yeah, that jealously rears it's ugly head in this chapter in quite a major way ;)**

**Love ya bunches!**

**\- Nagiana**

**PS -Oh yeah, and you guys would really take the time to look up the song before reading, that would be great! It really shows the mindset that Natalie was in when asked Barsad to dance. It really is quite a beautiful song.**

**PPS - I know you guys are probably wondering where the hell Blake is. Yeah, he'll pop up next chapter, I promise :)**

* * *

_"It seems like_

_Happiness is just a thing called Joe_

_He's got a smile that makes the lilacs want to grow_

_He's got a way that makes the angels heave a sigh_

_When they see Little Joe passing by_

_Sometimes the cabin's gloomy and the table's bare_

_But when he kisses me it's Christmas everywhere_

_Troubles fly away and life is easy . . ." _

\- "Happiness is a Thing Called Joe" by Peggy Lee

"Oh, Barsad, I _love_ this song!" Natalie grinned, and Barsad looked up from Christopher Poindexter just long enough to see the cover for Peggy Lee's _The Man I Love_ album, disappear back into the shelf among its compatriots. Natalie had a broad grin plastered on her face and when she placed the needle on the record, the room was suddenly filled with a beautiful 50's instrumental piece. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "My Gam Gam _loves_ this song! I grew up listening to it." She told him and he gave a slow nod. He watched for a moment as she stood there, hips swaying to the music and for a moment, he remembered that his wife used to do the same thing. She would stand there in front of the record player or the kitchen counter while making dinner, and simply _sway_, as if she was getting wrapped up in the music and nothing else in the world mattered.

For a moment, she reminded him so much of his Fadila, that he was breathless. And when she turned around and, smiling, moved over to him, he could barely comprehend that her hand was being outstretched to him. "Come, Barsad – dance with me!" She spoke and immediately, he shook his head, his eyes widening.

"Oh, no, that is a bad idea! If Bane were to walk in -"

"Then I'd dance with him too!" She interrupted him rather imperiously. "Because I am so _fucking _tired of sitting around and doing nothing day in and day out, that I am willing to _actually _dance! At least now I'll be able to do something _new_!"

Barsad hesitated for a moment before closing the book and putting it aside. He then slowly reached up and took her hand. Beaming, she backed up, taking him with her as she did so. One hand appearing on his shoulder while the other appeared in his hand, his free arm wrapped around her waist as they stood there and gently swayed in a circle in the middle of the living room. Her cheek was pressed to his chest and he rested his own on her head as Peggy Lee's melodic voice filled the room, wrapping them up in utter angelic perfection.

"This reminds me of my wife . . ." He eventually murmured, a hint of wistful nostalgia in his tone, and heard Natalie chuckle.

"Oh?" He nodded.

"I'd come home some nights after work and she'd be at the record player or the kitchen counter getting dinner ready, just swaying to the music. We'd dance like this and often wouldn't stop until we smelled our dinner burning on the stove or the hot-plate – whichever was working at the time!" He spoke with a chuckle and Natalie gave another one of her own.

"You never told me how she died."

Barsad was quiet was a long while before eventually speaking, his tone hard: "With reason. The country where we were from, there was a civil war. It tore the country in two, and . . . no one was given the right to be neutral, let me just say that. When I was gone, one day, to fill our ration card, I came back to find that enemy soldiers had raided our home. They had found out about our desire to remain neutral and I suppose . . . I suppose they wanted to rectify that in some way. I came home to find her lying on our bed . . . clothes torn and . . . and body broken. They used her for their own sick, selfish needs and then killed her. Slit her throat. They didn't even give her the mercy of a quick, clean death. And I never got the chance to say goodbye."

Natalie's eyebrows furrowed in sorrow as she took her cheek off of his chest to gaze up at him. "Oh, that's terrible, Barsad!" He nodded.

"It was."

"And that was when you joined with Bane?" Barsad nodded again.

"He . . . promised change. He promised that everything evil that took away my wife, would be done with – that it would never happen again. That justice would prevail in the new world he was forging."

"Is it?" She asked quietly, and he gazed down at her for a moment. They had long ceased their dancing, and as the song ended and rolled into "(Just One Thing to Say) I Love You", he turned his beautiful blue eyes onto her and nodded.

"At the end of the day, I know it is."

They stayed like that for a moment before he gave a weak smile and gently buried one hand in her hair, feeling the thickness and the heft of it in his hand. "You look like her, too, pretty one . . . only _infinitely_ more beautiful . . .!" He murmured, voice almost breathless, and Natalie closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath at his words. He shouldn't have his hands on her; looking at her with those beautiful eyes of his in that heavy lidded gaze. It was dangerous; he shouldn't be touching her like this. She shouldn't want and crave his touch like she did because he was the only kind thing in this Hell that had become her life. She shouldn't want to kiss him – want his tongue in her mouth. She shouldn't want to go to bed with him . . . shouldn't want to feel the weight of him above her, beneath her, all around her – want to feel the way he felt inside her. She felt terribly confused about the entire thing – conflicted in her love for Blake and the overwhelming desire she felt for this strangely humanistic terrorist with a surprising heart of gold.

Was it Stockholm syndrome that was making her feel this way? Or was this purely natural?

Suddenly, she felt a large, callused hand on the back of her neck and then two lips against hers. His lips were warm and soft, slowly moving, savoring each second, sending shivers straight down her spine to her tingling toes. She shuddered quickly and brought her hands up to grip a pair of strong, broad shoulders as he pulled her body closer to his – forcing her to stand on her tiptoes in order to meet him. Warmth washed through her in gentle waves as he deepened the kiss, his hands moving upwards from the back of her neck to clench in her dark hair. His tongue filled her mouth – thick and inviting and tasting vaguely of a strange mixture of beer and licorice. She let out a little sigh of satisfaction, and he slowly broke the kiss to look down into her eyes - his own dark and heavy-lidded. She smelled of lavender and all the goodness in the world and felt like satin underneath his callused, world-weary fingertips. Lord help him . . . he knew he shouldn't want this - shouldn't want _her_, but . . .

"I want you, pretty one. I don't know why – but I do. I don't know why I want to invite this type of danger into my life, but -"

A loud 'ding' filled the space, effectively interrupting him before she could reply, and ruining whatever it was that had formed between them in that magical length of short time. They jumped, right when the doors opened and Bane stalked in. He came to a dead stop when he saw them, standing there, arms around each other in a dance while romantic music played from the record player. His eyes changed from accusing to betrayal to . . . _hurt_? But then it all disappeared, and only rage was left – smoldering and all-encompassing.

"You _dare_?" He roared before marching in their direction. Immediately, they flung themselves away from each other, Barsad's eyes growing wide as Natalie immediately moved to step in-between them.

"Bane – _Bane_, wait a minute, now, _nothing _happened! We were just -"

"Quiet, little one! Nothing you can say will excuse his hands being on you!" He snapped before reaching out to him. He was stopped, however, by Natalie's small hands appearing on his chest. With a bewildered look, he cast his gaze down onto hers. "Why are you insistent on defending him?"

"Because _nothing_ happened, Bane!" She all but yelled up at him, the lie coming surprisingly easy to her lips. She had never lied like that before. Why had that one come so easy? "We were just _dancing_! Nothing happened – it was _innocent_!"

"_Innocent_?" Bane roared before giving a caustic laugh. "I don't call walking in to find my queen in the arms of my second, _innocent_! Now get out of the way, little one."

"No!"

"Little one -!"

"I'm not stepping out of the way until you see reason!"

"Natalie, please -!"

Fury entered Bane's eyes when Barsad spoke her name, and he lunged past her, grabbing Barsad up by one hand wrapped around his throat. Natalie was pushed aside and fell painfully to her hands and knees to the hardwood floor. With that one grip, Bane had picked up Barsad a mere few inches off of the floor, but the man's hands scrabbled at his leader's hand all the same.

"You dare touch her – you dare even speak her _name -_!"

"_Bane_!"

"Forgive me . . . Leader!" Barsad gasped out and Bane shook his head, dark amusement echoing in his deep blue eyes.

"Forgive you? What do you know of forgiveness? You think your wife forgives you for what you allowed to happen? You think she forgives you for leaving her alone to allow men to take advantage of her and then murder her? No. No, I would say she does not. But I won't give my little one that sorrow. I will protect her by nipping whatever it is you hold for her in the bud –!"

"God_damn_it, Bane, would you _stop _this?"

Everything went completely still when Natalie hauled back and slapped him. He hardly felt anything because of the metal covering his face, while her hand felt everything, but at that moment, she had so much adrenaline and concern for Barsad coursing through her body, that she hardly felt the pain licking throughout the appendage. Bane, however, had gently lowered Barsad to his feet, where he then dropped him. The man curled up on his hands and knees, gasping and wheezing for breath while Bane gazed at her for a moment. She couldn't read the emotion flickering through his gaze and that frightened her. Normally, Bane allowed her to read him freely – probably as a way to make her feel safer around him – but now . . . now, he was completely closed off, and she had never been so frightened in her life.

"You slapped me." He spoke, almost in awe that such a thing would dare to have been done to him by a woman, and she nodded.

"Yes, I did. Because you wouldn't see reason."

"Reason? Reason is _all _I see, little one! I come in, see another man holding my queen -"

"I am _not _your queen!"

"– And I react appropriately! How was I supposed to act?"

"By _listening _to me – to _us_!" She yelled back, wonder flickering through her features as she gestured between her and Barsad. "Reason is best utilized with truth and you _hadn't _listened to a word I said – not even to what Barsad said, and you _claim _to call him friend and your second! Instead, you came in like a rampaging bull seeing red because you _assumed _the worst had happened or was _going _to happen! It was _nothing_!"

Again, a lie, and she was surprised and a little taken aback by how easily it came to her lips. Did being around Bane this long really open her up to more conventional ways of living her life?

Bane stayed silent for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was calm and cool. "You were . . . dancing with him?" She nodded, a relieved look appearing on her face.

"_Yes_! We were dancing! Again, it was nothing!"

He nodded, slowly. "You never dance with _me_."

Natalie recoiled, her eyes growing slightly wide. Did she sense . . . _hurt _in his voice? "Bane, are you . . . are you _jealous_?" She asked, awed that he could even feel such an emotion, and immediately, he shook his head, his eyes and voice hardening.

"Of course not. To assume that would assume that I think this man competition, of which I know he is not. You are my queen, little one -"

"I am not your little one, either." She interrupted him, much softer in her correction this time, but he ignored her like last time.

"I am just insulted that a man would presume to ever place his hands on you when you are mine."

She recoiled at this, as well, all pretense of softness gone from her features and her voice. "_Yours_? Excuse me, Bane, but I am _no one's _but myself! I am owned by no man and I'll be damned if I start with _you_ of all men!" She snapped before twirling around and moving towards the double doors to the bedroom.

"Then what is love, little one?" Bane spoke up, causing her to come to a screeching halt. "What is love, if not being unconsciously controlled by someone else? An emotion that forces you to put another's well-being in front of your own. What do you call that, if not being owned by someone else?"

After a moment, she slowly turned around to face him, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "You, Bane, have one _fucked up _view of love."

He shook his head. "No, I have a very _logical _view of love. And what happens when that love breaks? When it is there no more? What do you do then? You spend however many months that it takes for you to get over them, in a depression because you no longer _have _them. What is that, if not another, subtler form of control?"

Natalie held a look of disgust on her face as she shook her head, jaw tight and furious tears beading her eyes as her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Maybe, no matter how much you love someone, there's still the possibility that they could still slip through your fingers like water and there's nothing you can do about it. That's not control, Bane, that's _chance_. And if you love someone, then you're willing to risk that hurt!" She shook her head again. "But what am I doing here, debating the ethereal points of _love_, with a being who's never experienced it before?"

A look of rage speared through his eyes then as he marched over to her. "You think I do not know what love is? You think I am immune to human emotions, like-like some - _automaton_?" He shook his head and gave an angry laugh. "No, I have loved – I love someone to this very day, at this very hour, _much_ to my abhorrence. I know its intricacies well - I know the way it wheedles into you and destroys everything you are. Love is a weakness, little one. And eventually, love will destroy you, as it eventually destroys all things."

She stood there and slowly shook her head for a moment, face expressionless. "I curse the woman who broke your heart so, Bane. And I give luck to the foolish one who thinks she can heal it."

She spared one last look at Barsad, and their gazes locked from across the way. Her eyes softened and grew concerned and her lips burned with the memories of his kiss. For a moment, they both thought she would run to him, but she refrained, knowing it would be worse for the both of them (him, significantly more-so) if she did. Somehow, simply by dancing with him, she had managed to wound Bane. And Bane, like always when he was hurt, was a volatile creature, no longer in control of his rage and his raw power. It was best to let sleeping dogs lie, and this was one sleeping dog she would not dare disturb. So, instead, she twirled around on her heel again and padded towards the double doors of the bedroom, where she threw them open. Stepping inside, she turned around and after pinning him with a freezing look, slammed them closed behind her. Bane heard the tumblers of the lock falling and gave a little laugh. It always amused him so, how she thought a mere flimsy lock would keep him out if he wanted in. But he allowed her to have the small thing, knowing how safe and secure it made her feel.

After a moment, Barsad's bitter chuckling, caused him to turn around to face him. Hand rubbing his throat, he shakily got to his feet and shook his head. "The two of you . . . fight like an old married couple."

Bane gazed at him for a moment before turning and moving off to the elevator. "Come with me. I have a mission for you."

"That no longer requires me to be here?" He asked, his voice growing much tighter than it ever had in relation to one of his direct orders, and Bane nodded.

"You will never step foot in this place again, Barsad. You will never see her again or be alone with her again except for extremely rare circumstances or under cases of emergency in which I can trust no other. Even then, you will find yourself with more of your brothers."

Barsad gave a bitter laugh. "How many times do we have to tell you that nothing happened before you start to believe us?" He asked before shaking his head when Bane ignored him. "Fine. You want her to love you, Bane? I can give you some advice," Barsad snapped and his tone and his words finally caused Bane to come to a slow stop. His teeth grit as he continued: "Be kind to her! You've thrust her into this position that would shake any woman, regardless of how strong she is. All she wants is a kindred soul – someone who will be kind to her. Show her you care for her – show her that you're not the monster she thinks you are even though I think it is _more _than useless after what she has just witnessed! You want her to think of herself as your queen instead of denying it with every fiber of her being like she did earlier, then for the love of God, _show her _that you can be a king she can respect and allow to protect her and return his love to! Otherwise, you will be forced to compete every day with that man you stole her away from!"

Bane slowly turned around to face him, a surprised and intrigued look in his eyes as he made a slow ways to his friend. Barsad held his place, though, and didn't flinch when he moved to loom over him. When he spoke, his voice was curious, almost awestruck. "You . . . _love_ her, don't you?"

Barsad gazed at him for a moment before swallowing hard and looking away. "She is an amazing woman, Bane. Kind and smart and compassionate. You'd know that if you treated her with any amount of kindness. You'd know that, only if you spent any amount of time setting her at ease and getting to know her like I have," He continued to look away: "But, unfortunately, my feelings for her will never be reciprocated. There are only two men in her life, unfortunately, and neither of them, is me," He sent a cold look up towards him. "And, unfortunately - whether she realizes it or not - one of those men is also you. But I doubt you will do any of that for one simple reason: kindness and compassion and _love_, is not in your nature. Not anymore, anyway."

Bane continued to gaze down at him for a moment before averting his gaze to the ground. Barsad stood there as well before straightening up. "My book. I forgot my book." He spoke, and Bane turned his eyes up to his, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Book?" Barsad nodded.

"Yes, a . . ." He trailed off and glanced at him. Deciding that Bane would probably not care at that moment, he decided to keep it deliberately vague. "It's . . . nothing. Just a . . . frivolous book of poetry – it means nothing, but . . . I haven't finished it. And I really would like to. Can I get it back?"

Bane gazed at him for a moment before speaking. "You are fortunate you are still one of the only ones I can trust completely, Barsad, despite what I have witnessed today. And with Miranda still . . . largely an _unknown _to me, I cannot risk leaving my little one alone," His eyes moved up to his as he ignored his request. "You will still guard her but from the outside, this time. You will remain on watch out here, where you can see everyone and anyone who enters the floor and anyone and everyone who leaves. You will not step foot in that apartment unless under an emergency. You will not speak to her or have any amount of contact with her. You are her silent guardian – nothing more," He looked away again. "I'll have a camera installed in that corner to make sure."

Barsad blinked a couple of times in pure, unadulterated shock, and watched him stalk past him and back towards the front door of the apartment. He gave a laugh of disbelief and held open his arms, for the first time in his memory, actually challenging his leader's decisions. "Bane, you know how I feel about her now – that is _cruelty_! To have her so near but so far from me . . . that is _madness_!"

Bane stopped and turned to gaze at him. "Lucky for you, then, Barsad, that pain just happens to be quite freeing."


End file.
